joe's diary

Thursday, September 30, 2004

People,

Do you have a shitty job? If the answer is yes, doesn't it suck?

Here's my problem; I have no way of emotionally disconnecting myself from the things I'm doing. So, even though my shitty job is very shitty, I still spend an exorbitant amount of time trying to do it conscientiously. And this would be ok if I got any sort of positive reinforcement from my boss. But I don't. At all. In fact, the only time he talks to me is when he wants to bitch, which is frequently. And so I find myself in a situation where I am always nervous that I'm going to be yelled at while also going over everything I'm doing 18 times to make sure it's right. Damn.

Sometimes, when I'm copying something a second time to make it dark enough for the boss's eyes, or correcting his woefully bad grammar in a letter, or walking a mile to a local bookstore to get the book "he just needs", or researching the 19th century volumes of old chemistry journals (whose dust I'm horribly allergic to) I get to wondering what the point of all this is. And of course the point is that the band makes this all sort of tolerable I guess. But it's hard.

Oops, just got bitched out. Gotta go.

Anybody have any good lottery number ideas?

joe welsh  @  8:26 AM  |  link  |   2 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Folks,

So the Somerville Rock House, although a wonderful creative haven, is perhaps the moldiest structure on the face of the earth. And luckily, I found out this year just how allergic to mold I am. For those of you unused to my delicate use of sarcasm, I am implying that I am very allergic to mold. Damn.

I am actually allergic to a lot of things, especially dogs and cats. Whenever I am around a household pet I get watery eyes, become wheezy and generally start to feel like I am being asphyxiated by Spot or Fido or Boots or Mittens. This is of course a huge drag, but by leaving the house or taking a nice warm fuzzy Benadryl trip it's easy for me to fight the allergic reaction off.

However, I can't seem to avoid the mold, especially in New England during the rainy season. And not only has the mold made me its bitch, it's made me its bitch in a very unpleasant, non-cats and dogs way. You see, with the mold the only symptom I get is splitting headaches that feel like someone is behind my eyeballs with a jackhammer, and he ain't happy. And the benadryl and related allergy medicines don't seem to get to him as well as the dog and cat dudes.

My point? I have decided to quit the band and dedicate my life to subverting the system and eventually making mold my bitch. I imagine it's going to take a lot of time, cotton balls, a sofa, three pancakes and a bullwhip to make it happen but I'm dedicated. Check back for updates.


joe welsh  @  8:11 AM  |  link  |   1 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

People,

The remnants of Jeanne are passing over us here in Boston and the rain is pouring down. I hate the rain, almost as much as I hate winter. And I don't think hating the rain needs too much of an explanation; it gets me wet when I want to be dry, it cancels all my outdoor activities, it fosters the mold that gives me the splitting allergy headaches, it makes my feet wet and itchy, it makes the trees grow and the animals live and good lord do I hate nature. Ok, maybe scratch that last one, but you get my point.

Anyway, this year I especially hate the rain because each day it keeps me off the road is a day it brings me closer to the end of bike season. I have to admit that I've fallen madly in love with my motobicycleta this season and the idea of packing him up for the winter breaks my little heart. Soon we'll spend our days apart, him drained of gas sitting under a cover in a shed, me (possibly full of gas) crammed under someone's armpit on the T.

Where's the justice?

joe welsh  @  8:10 AM  |  link  |   1 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Monday, September 27, 2004

People,

I know that I have a lower tolerance for irritation than most people, and I'm OK with this. But among all the stupid things that drive me crazy there are more than a few legitimate gripes. One of which is the respect people have for handicapped parking.

I literally become full of rage when I see people who don't have a handicapped plate or a visible disability park in a handicapped spot. I mean, forget about the fact that it's against the law, it's also just mind-bendingly "Look at me, I'm a huge stupid asshole" selfish. Yesterday I was at a CVS when a lady zipped into the lot, cut me off on my bike and parked in a handicapped spot. This was particularly offensive since there were approximately 19,000 million other spaces available a 35 second walk away. Anyway, a moment later, a mid thirty-something very non-handicapped lady gets out of the car. I yell at her that she can't park there, it's a handicapped space. She yells back that I should mind my own business, she'll just be a minute and then turns and walks away. So I keyed her car.

Ok, I didn't do that but good god damn I wanted to. Oh well. I guess I have no real point today. Sometimes I just get depressed and wonder where people's compassion for each other has gone.

Look out for each other, people.

joe welsh  @  7:54 AM  |  link  |   1 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Friday, September 24, 2004

People,

Due to the needs of my Cranky Old Ass Boss (COAB) I really don't have time today to detail the ridiculous minutiae of my life for your public consumption. I'll make it up to you though. I promise. Come on, don't be like that.

Anyway, I added a comments section to the journal, so now instead of reading about me today you can go back and comment on your favorite entries. Now, if you, like 99% of the people who read this, do not have favorite entries then you can go have five extra minutes reading Salon.

Rock.

joe welsh  @  8:08 AM  |  link  |   2 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Thursday, September 23, 2004

Folks,

The red sox sure aren't making it easy to be red sox fans, are they? The last three victories have all come via runs in the final inning (two in the ninth, one in the 12th!) and, frankly, all this nail-biting is killing me.

Last night the Somerville Rock House crew crowded around the TV set and worked on making our ulcers bigger and more painful. Granted, the end result was great but goddamn, can't we get a blowout sometime soon?

I actually attended the game two nights ago and met another in the long line of assholes I seemed destined to meet. Gordon had just come back to the seats with a hot dog for yours truly when he realized he forgot the mustard. No big deal, right? There are hot dog vendors all over the park and one happened to be coming by our row at that moment. So I yelled to him and asked if I could get some mustard. He said no. I showed him the dog and told him it was cool, we bought it. Still no. I asked why. He looked at me like I should know that asking a hot dog vendor for mustard for a dog that he did not personally sell is equivalent to asking him to gold plate his kidney, surgically remove it himself and feed it to me while softly rubbing my chest. Asshole.

Arg.

joe welsh  @  7:57 AM  |  link  |   6 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

So,

I've been staying away from the political for a while because, well, it's depressing and tiring. But today I was having some serious thoughts about justice and Americanism. Damn, sounds like a fun journal, right? Anyway....

In America, I think we accept (and kind of enjoy) the fact that there is no real justice for celebrities. From Robert Downey Jr. To Scott Weiland to Courtney Love to O.J. Simpson to William Kennedy Smith to Ted Kennedy etc, we fully expect any celebrity accused of a crime to get off either scot-free or with a smaller slap on the wrist than any "regular" person. I mean, did anyone think that Kobe Bryant was really going to go to jail (or even to trial?) for what did or did not happen in that Colorado hotel room?

But what does that have to do with politics? Well, I was thinking that in terms of our relations with other countries we as Americans feel like we're the celebrities of the world. Any time an American is in trouble overseas or held hostage we fully expect them to be released unharmed because they are American. And for the most part these Americans are returned safe and sound because people fear and respect the power of America and what we could do in return. "We're Americans, we're above anybody else's laws" is a pretty pervasive attitude in this country. And I'll admit that I fully subscribe to it. Whenever I see an American in trouble overseas on television I automatically think "Don't worry chap, you're an American. It'll be OK." I think that this faith is very comforting to us and let's us live in our own little bubble of Americanism, shielded from many of the harsher realities of the world.

That what, to me, makes these Al-Qaida kidnappings so shocking and challenging to my own perceptions of the world. These guys are like "You know what? In two days we're going to cut this guy's head off". "Hold on now fellas, you can't cut his head off. He's an American, don't you know what that means?" "Hmmm, don't care. We're going to do it" And then they do do it! And videotape it and post it on the internet! It all makes me feel very helpless.

Sometimes I wish I lived 100 years ago on a farm in Virginia.

joe welsh  @  10:56 AM  |  link  |   1 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

People,

So, as many of you know, I am on a diet to try to correct my lifestyle choice (i.e. my own damn fault) induced hypoglycemia. This diet is essentially equivalent to what you would feed a bunny that you owned but did not especially care for. Right now I'm having my breakfast of dry All Bran and water. Yum.

Anyway, I've been doing pretty well on this diet and have kept the cheating to a minimum. All in all I guess I feel better and I seem to be losing a couple pounds, but that 's not what this entry is about. This entry is about how good cake is.

Ladybetrothed Sarah and I attended a birthday party for Andrew, our favorite ten year old, on Sunday. Naturally there was cake. And since I hadn't had cake in a while I decided I deserved it. I also decided I deserved a little ice cream. Damn! Cake and ice cream are gooooood. I mean, really good. Like, whoever invented cake deserves the Nobel Prize good.

So above any health gain I may be gaining through my Thumper diet, I like that I get to enjoy the things I used to eat way more than I used to enjoy them. Next up - Pizza.

joe welsh  @  8:01 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Monday, September 20, 2004

People,

Friday night I headed out with Brendo Frendo and my friends John and Linda to go see Kid Rock. That's right, Kid Rock.

Anyway, we set out and arrived at the arena confused. We wondered whether we had somehow gotten our directions wrong and had ended up at the White Trash of America convention and/or the "who has the most teeth" contest. Ok, that is horribly judgmental on my part, but later in the story you'll see why I'm not exactly backing off that initial impression.

On to the show. Kid Rock is very good at some of what he does, pretty good at some of the other stuff he does and painfully awful at the rest. What I really enjoy are his rap songs, which have an old school feel and a good dose of humor. How can you resist "I make punk rock/then I mix it with the hip hop/I got money like Fort Knox/ I'll forever be the Kid Rock/Forever". That's good stuff. Then there's the uptempo southern/country rock stuff which is ok I guess. He really wants to be Skynyrd or Bob Seger, but it doesn't really come off and his more serious lyrics are atrocious. Then, people, there are the interminable and intolerable ballads. Good lord almighty in heaven Jesus. When he breaks these songs out you really wish you had a good book with you or, alternatively, an icepick to stab into your brain. Pow. I mean, even the stoners were looking at each other and wondering whether the stuff was actually working. It was that much of a downer.

So, altogether I give the show a 6 on a scale of 10. The man is definitely an entertainer, is obviously very concerned about whether I'm both "ready to rock" and "having a good time", and has a really good band. Plus, he had strippers on stage which gave me something to do while my eyes glazed over during another in the long line of heartbreak ballads. Also, he's a class act. During "Cadillac Pussy" a huge neon sign saying "Cadillac Pussy" was raised against the backdrop. And when he hit the chorus it flashed. Now, I'm still relatively young and never got the chance to meet Shakespeare myself, but I have a feeling that if he had been there a tear or two would have slipped out of the old bard's eye.

After the final note slipped away we herded out to the parking lot with the drunkest slice of humanity I've been around in a looooong while. We got in out car and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Dag. While we were waiting we started to have a conversation about stereotypes. I acknowledged that I had an elitist opinion about most of the people at the show and that that was unfair. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than a very drunk, very heavy, very gross lady slipped somewhat behind a car near us and dropped trou. I say "somewhat" behind a car because she certainly wasn't hiding from me and I saw the entirety of what I am about to report. Anyway, we sat there and wondered if she was going to pee? or worse, poo? Nope, she wasn't going to do either of those things, electing instead to change HER TAMPON!!! Not kidding. She popped the old one out, put it on the hood of the car (which wasn't her car!!!) and popped the new one in. Then she walked away.

It was, without a doubt, the nastiest thing I have ever seen. Damn.

joe welsh  @  7:59 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Friday, September 17, 2004

Folks,

I'm sitting at my desk....nervous to the point of panic. And for a while I had no idea why. I mean, everything in Joeville is going pretty well - band, Ladybetrothed Sarah, I'm going bowling tomorrow etc. So why am I so god damn nervous?

And then it hit me. Against all my better judgment and plans to the contrary my emotional state is now inextricably linked to the Red Sox for the next month. And all my anxiety of this morning is coming directly from the hope that they can win two out of three in Yankee Stadium.

Damn it, after all the tears and the emotional roller coasters of last year I said this wouldn't happen again. I would watch the Red Sox with a detached sense of well-being this season. WRONG!

Oh well, I guess I will rejoin the land of the rational sometime before November. God help me.

joe welsh  @  8:00 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

Folks,

I'm sitting at my desk....nervous to the point of panic. And for a while I had no idea why. I mean, everything in Joeville is going pretty well - band, Ladybetrothed Sarah, I'm going bowling tomorrow etc. So why am I so god damn nervous?

And then it hit me. Against all my better judgment and plans to the contrary my emotional state is now inextricably linked to the Red Sox for the next month. And all my anxiety of this morning is coming directly from the hope that they can win two out of three in Yankee Stadium.

Damn it, after all the tears and the emotional roller coasters of last year I said this wouldn't happen again. I would watch the Red Sox with a detached sense of well-being this season. WRONG!

Oh well, I guess I will rejoin the land of the rational sometime before November. God help me.

joe welsh  @  8:00 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Thursday, September 16, 2004

People,

So last night the rock crew and entourage headed out to celebrate Jordan's birthday. Since we're very high class as well as wealthy, we naturally chose a bowling alley to host this event. Nothing too exciting happened, except that we weren't allowed to bowl because of league night. Fine, right? Well, sorta. You see, various members of our party had called in earlier to reserve lanes and were told that we could bowl at nine. Then when we got there we were told it would be more like eleven. Then we were finally told ten. This ineptitude also would have been somewhat OK (albeit annoying) if it had not been delivered with a whole smorgasboard of profanity and rudeness. That just made it infuriating. I mean, three separate dudes cursed out the people we were with. WTF?

All this brings me to my point of the day, don't take a service industry job if you hate serving people! I mean, I understand how crappy some jobs are if you aren't in the mood to do them. I know working at the bowling alley probably gets pretty old. But if your job essentially is to be nice to people and to try to accomodate them, then at least make a half-hearted effort. And if you can't, then it's time to recognize that there are plenty of jobs where you can sit at a desk in the back somewhere be crabby all damn day. Don't use your unhappiness to ruin the experiences of others. I mean, we were so pissed that when a lane finally opened up we said forget it, finished our drinks and left.

I mean, that sucks. Am I right?

joe welsh  @  8:09 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

People,

So, as all of you loyal readers know, Fooled By April practices in my basement. For those of you who didn't know that, well, now you can start to understand just how glamorous this business is.

Anyway, last night FXA took it upon themselves to clean the basement practice space for the first time in the three years we've been there. Dag. Of course, before we took up residence, the basement hadn't been cleaned for at least another three or four years. Dag. Here's what we found:

- Lots of old clothes buried in mildewy piles under all kinds of cords and electronics. I think each band member had a moment where they were momentarily excited by finding something they'd lost, only to smell it and then throw it out again.

- An unimaginable amount of useless crap, including two TV's, a VCR, a four-track and two computers - all broken. Pete and I took it upon ourselves to pitch the four track and the VCR off the roof onto our concrete patio to see how they would smash. That was, how do you say, awesome.

- Lots of stickers and other promotional stuff that we bought, then it got buried, then we forgot about it, then we bought more.

- More spiders than you could shake a spider divining rod at.

- A crappy old guitar of Pete's. After determining its worthlessness, Pete and I took it back to the aforementioned patio and took turns hoisting it above our heads, screaming "Thank you! Good night!" and then smashing it. It took a good five tries to completely break and proved that it's really not as easy as Mr. Townshend makes it look.

- An huge trove of some former roommate's porn. There was a ton. I mean, a LOT, and I'm not surprised too easily.

- Some fireworks and lots of old bottles of liquor. To me, this is a combination made in heaven. We took an old bottle of Cuervo and some Jumping Jacks out to the aforementioned back patio. Then I individually lit the jumping jacks and dropped them in the tequila. When I timed it just right the fireworks would go in the tequila. And sometimes the bubbles and foam rising from the tequila would light on fire! Man, we're lame.

- More than a couple mouse skeletons-----nasty.

- Enough mold to still make me feel sick today. Damn.

joe welsh  @  7:56 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

And the winner of the coveted Budweiser sweater (seen below)


is Shane Tramontozzi from the band The Bocks! Now, before you all start thinking that this was all a fix and I'm just handing this gem of clothing off to another band person, let me assure you that this is not how I wanted it to work out. But sometimes destiny intervenes, people.

Here's the story....

After getting a fair number of entries last week, we packed up the rock van and headed to Worcester to rock Ralph's on Friday night. Everything was a-ok cool, we got there, had a bite, set up and began to rock (as is our wont). Anywho, midway through the set I announced that we had been having this little Budweiser contest and that anyone who wanted to could enter by writing an essay on our mailing list and giving it to me after the show. Of course, the people at the rock show didn't want to write, they wanted to drink and throw shit at the stage. So I offered an alternative: you could be eligible to win the sweater by bringing me my favorite things. These are gasoline, diet coke, gap clothing and cigarettes.

Of course this was all a goof on my part. Although I do enjoy these things, they really aren't my favorites, they just seemed like things that no one would go and collect. I mean, I was pelted by cigarettes for the rest of the night, but that's what I expected and assumed that that would be as far as it went. But I did not count on Shane, who collected all the items and even put them on the stage during the show. Including a gas can with gas in it. Whoa. After a display like that I had to give it to him, if only to avoid the very real possibility that he's a nutjob and would kill me if I didn't.

So here's to you Shane, this Bud's for you.

joe welsh  @  7:52 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Monday, September 13, 2004

People,

So, the sweater contest is over and I will announce the winner along with some of the best entries in tomorrow's journal. Everyone who entered put forth a great effort but, as we all know, in the end there can only be one person who truly deserves the sweater of a bloated and severely mediocre guitar player.

In other news - good lord do I hate my job. Crotchety Old Angry Boss (COAB) has been up my ass for like two weeks about nothing. And people, when you've taken a job for the express reason of supporting your rock habit, knowing full well that said job is demeaning and well beneath you, well......you really don't need a COAB up your ass all the time.

As a result of COAB being up my ass I've been thinking a lot about the concept of selling out. Some people have accused us already of being sellouts because we sold a song to ABC Family, which I guess to the cool crowd is very un-rock. But, seeing as how we financed the recording of that song and compromised for no one in its creation, I think it's perhaps the most rock thing ever. If selling a song that I'm proud of to major Disney corporations gets COAB out of my ass permanently then bring it on. Selling out has no relevance at all to bands in our situation. I feel more like we're "selling in", that is, getting closer to making the music that we want to make our full time gig.

Oh well.

joe welsh  @  7:59 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Friday, September 10, 2004

Folks,

Today is your final reminder about the "win Joe the drunken idiot's sweater sweepstakes" (see this week's entries). So far I've gotten a few humorous entries, a couple heartfelt entries and a couple really weird entries. They've all been top notch but I can't say the Buddy McBud (the sweater's name) could not still be won by that elusive perfect entry.

Monday I will post the winning entry as well as some of the best of the rest.


joe welsh  @  7:53 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Thursday, September 09, 2004

People,

So I have an idea. This is perhaps the best idea I've had in a long time. You will be shocked and amazed.

I think we should nominate the Boston Red Sox to take over the democratic ticket for November. I mean, these guys can't lose right now.

Also, once they win I think they could divide the tasks up pretty easily; Varitek would naturally be the Secretary of Defense, Manny would be the White House Press Secretary, Millar could handle PR and terrible KFC commercials, Schilling would do the fundraising, Nixon could handle everything concerning the disabled, Kapler could be the health and fitness chair, Pokey Reese could head up the Department of Silly Nicknames, Pedro could handle all national security issues as they pertain to the Gerry-curl, Johnny Damon could be the White House Stylist, etc. Get Terry up off the bench for the Vice Presidency and put Theo in charge of it all.

Who's with me?

P.S. The sweater contest (see September 7th entry) is heating up. Get your entry in today.

joe welsh  @  8:02 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

So, Damn!

I am more than a little surprised that here it is, the second day of the "Win the Best Sweater in the World Contest" (see yesterday's entry) and I have nary an entry to peruse. Hopefully this is all because you guys are working really hard on your essays and don't want to disappoint me, but I acknowledge it may be because I'm a huge tool and no one wants my old dirty clothes. Oh well.

Anyway, the contest ends on Monday, with the winner to be announced on Tuesday. So get cracking!

joe welsh  @  8:07 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

People,

So it's been almost a year now since I quit the glug-glug-happy-now-wait-getting- sad-punching-things-crying-throwing up world that is heavy drinking, and that's a good thing. A bad thing is that it seems that now is the time to part with a very dear friend of mine who has served me well but now really has no place in my life. That friend, folks, is my beautiful knit Budweiser sweater seen below:




Yes, I know, I'm very handsome and very heterosexual. Thanks.

Anyway, this is the best piece of clothing I've ever owned and I never cease to get compliments on it. However, the time has come to pass it along to another generation of people just starting to throw years of their lives away.

And what better way to unload this gem than with a contest? Here are the rules: If you want this sweater then please write me an essay (100 words of less) describing 1) why you deserve it and 2) how you will give it a good home. Send all entries to joe@fooledbyapril.com with "Budweiser" in the subject line. Foreign entries are encouraged as I will ship this baby to its new home regardless of location.

OK, get crackin people!

joe welsh  @  7:59 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Friday, September 03, 2004

People,

Today I've had my motorcycle license for four months exactly today. Today I also pushed Mr. Bumbles over the 1500 mile mark for the summer. Pretty damn impressive for a machine made in 1975. I was also made in 1975 and I couldn't go 1500 miles if you promised me a palace full of money and cheese for my troubles.

So, if you see Bumbles, give him a wave or buy him a drink. Sunoco Ultra 93 is his favorite.

joe welsh  @  8:04 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Thursday, September 02, 2004

People,

Last night the band reconvened in the basement to hash out a new tune and everything went pretty well, with the exception of a couple broken strings and the usual homoerotic tension. All in all, a success.

Later, I watched the Red Sox demolish the Angels and put themselves one game closer to the playoffs. This is almost bad news to me, since I have now increased my level of fervor from "Avid Red Sox Fan" to "Insanely rabid with Red Sox Fever Fan". So now I've committed myself to at least another month of constant score checking and clenched stomachs. And, as we all know, this will only end in tears. Dag.

joe welsh  @  7:56 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

People,

So, last night as Ladybetrothed Sarah and I were just settling into bed, under a blanket in the wonderfully frigid air conditioning, blissfully slipping into sleep after another long day, we were forcibly snapped back into the world of the awake by Melvin.

Melvin is the skunk who lives in our yard. We haven't seen too much of him this summer, but he was certainly around last night. I have a theory that he was actually watching through our window, waiting for exactly the right moment to make his skunk fart into our air conditioner's outside air intake. Sort of a "welcome to the neighborhood, LS" gesture.

Anywho, the smell was overpowering and in my infinite wisdom I decided to remedy it by spraying bathroom air freshener right in front of the air conditioner's fan, an act that left me covered in air freshener and the room smelling 87 times worse.

Melvin 1, Joe 0.

joe welsh  @  7:54 AM  |  link  |   0 comments

     *     *     *     *     *     *


This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Archives:
August 2001
September 2001
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006

Site Feed