God damn.

Last night was perhaps a little too much rock (gasp!) for a Thursday. I am hung over like a baby on a balcony in Michael Jackson's arms. Oh well, the prices we pay.

We started out at Drugless Douglas's farewell show at TT the Bear's, where we played a rousing rendition of "Don't Want You Around." It was all very rock when I started playing the solo (a solo I wrote, in a song I wrote) in the wrongest of wrong keys. I mean, how many frigging times have I played that solo? It was weird. Anywho, here's a tip for you aspiring rockers, when you hit a real bum note in a solo, just keep playing it. That way people think "wow, he's out there, he must have a really deep understanding of jazz theory. He's awesome" instead of the truth, which is "wow, he licks ass." It's all about the confidence. I've played tri-tones all night before and had people say they thought I was really good. Wrong!

After the rocking there was the rock afterparty, which doubled as Maura's b-day bash. Jordan, Brendo Frendo and I spent the night crooning three part harmony versions of hair metal songs (unfortunately, not kidding) and, oh yeah, drinking way way way too much. I slept with my contacts in and I'm pretty sure I'm still loaded

Oh well, I may be in pain, but I live to rock another day....