I’m not really good with unstructured time. Case in point: these last 2 weeks I have had about 22 hours of free time per day, yet I have done nothing but drink iced tea, eat chicken wings, and watch Monty Python and The Holy Grail (“Help! Help! I’m being repressed!”). Remember on The Simpsons when the comic book guy has a wheelbarrow with 100 tacos in it, and he is going to watch a Dr. Who marathon? That’s basically me this summer. This is more or less OK, though, because my sloth will surely cease when we leave for Montreal next week (with a stop in 100 Mile Monday & Tuesday).

I’m listening to Gnarls Barkley now, because everyone tells me I should be. When I say: “everyone tells me,” I mean: I read on the Internet that they are good. People don’t actually tell me things, because I don’t actually talk to people, except for grandpa, but the only music he likes is Jingle Cats—personally, I only like their older stuff, you know, like Meowy Christmas and Here Comes Santa Claws, pure gold. Gnarls Barkley is good too, though. It makes me bob my head spastically, as I rock back and forth in my computer chair, which I assure you looks, and is, very cool. St. Elsewhere has a bit of a The Love Below feel to it, can’t be bad. Plus, I am all for nonsensical pun-names, especially this one. For some reason, Charles Barkley is hilarious to me. (For those of you who pooh-pooh sports [and sport pooh-pooh], Barkley is an NBA commentator who used play the four spot for the Phoenix Suns) He has no neck and he's always saying crazy things like: "I'm rich, man. I can't be hitting people. It's a liability issue, especially with all these white people in the crowd at golf tournaments. I can see the headlines: 'Charles Barkley kills white dude with a golf ball." He’s like the black Don Cherry, but less old, and beefy (Charles Barkley cannot be described without the word beefy). I always expect him to jump up and start beating on someone, while yelling and/or laughing.