Last One to Die.

Nine men slept over last night, better known as Static Radio NJ and No Harm Done. I really enjoy playing band host for a night; it's a great way to hear some stories and guarantee yourself a place to stay where ever they happen to live. This is a violable resource for me; if I could spend my life touring, I very much would.

The thing I always love about bands staying over is just how good they are at arranging their sleeping bags. It's body tetris, and the good ones have it down to art. The good ones also can have their sleeping bags out, be changed, and asleep in 5 minutes flat. The really good ones don't even bother to change or with sleeping bags.

I had a good day yesterday, between my house guests and a new Rancid album. I'm sure everyone will hate it and that's fine with me. I'm glad my first listen was by myself because I'm sure if anyone was in the car with me, they would be LOLing over how dumb of a fan girl I am for months. Track One: As soon as I hear Tim's voice, tears start. Track Two: Matt Freeman's bass line makes me scream. Track Three: SKAAAA. Complete laughing fit. Track Nine: Straight COUNTRY song about Tim' brother coming back from the Iraq War. I coulda died happy in my car, right there.

There's a few songs on there about Iraq and they're almost conservative, talking about how "the bravest kids I know are the the ones that got to go fighting over there". There's a lot of punk rock bands that write a lot of punk rock songs that sound a lot like Anti-Flag about how horrible the war is, but I'm much more appreciative of bands that add a little bit more than the "Fuck You" to a protest song. Rancid's always been good at that. There's a genuine remorse in what they say about Iraq, not just anger. They've never gotten enough credit for being a political band. I think they might like it that way.

I read an article in the Los Angeles Times, which I can't find for the life of me now, that called Rancid "heart warming". While it's an odd adjective for punk rock, I can't think of a truer phrase for this album. It's a complete pop record, comparable with an And Out Come the Wolves tempo. It's subtle at times, punches you in the face other times, surprises you, reminds you of better days, makes you hopeful for new ones. But above all, it's honest. I love it. But I would have loved it no matter what.

(End Rancid talk, you can start reading again.)

Tonight, I am going to see Up, tomorrow is $1 beer at the Oklahoma City Redhawks (they play the Isotopes all the time) game and Friday I'm headed to an art show. Somewhere in there, I really should find a job. I'm thinking about applying at vet clinics again. While, dang, working at those places is some grossness, it's good, active and rewarding work.

Have I ever mentioned that I live with this painting? It's a good five feet long, by the way. It's sort of like living with Kenneth again. It keeps me safe while I sleep.