…I wish I were a songwriter. So many things are better communicated in a song. It’s like a beautiful language that I only took for a semester in middle school once. I could maybe order breakfast in said language, but I certainly couldn’t carry on a conversation.

I mean, seriously, what’s the point of it?

It’s a beautiful day to be out and about in Indy.

(Ben took the ones of me. He was tired of me taking photos of him.)

I am fairly convinced that my relative lack of creativity for the last while has been direcly related to a lack of any new studio releases from Counting Crows.  I shrivel up a little without Adam Duritz lyrics.

Yesterday, this problem found it’s salve.

Yesterday, I’m pretty sure I saw a pirate while driving home from work on New York street. He was trying to cross the street. I would imagine that having an eye patch makes that at least 50% more difficult than trying to cross the street without wearing an eye patch.

Bummer.