My co-worker went to see the Fallingwater® house and brought back a few bottles of Fallingwater® Water™ for the office. It is “bottled expressly for Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater®”

But, no worries, “water does not originate at Fallingwater”.

This really depresses me. Mostly because it’s like McDonald’s style branding, which I know isn’t new, but Fallingwater® Water™ seems kind of insane to me.

FROM THE PEOPLE WHO BROUGHT YOU WATER, COMES…

WATER!

BUT YOU BOUGHT IT HERE, AT FALLINGWATER!

SO IT’S NOT JUST WATER, IT’S FALLINGWATER WATER!

OK that’ll be $3.75 please. Yes, that’s in US Dollars.

Anyway I brought one home because it’s “premium” drinking water. Not that crap water you get out of your faucets. That shit is for amateurs. I cannot believe I have been drinking just regular, non-premium water from not Fallingwater. Guess what? It tastes like Frank rolling in his grave. Just kidding.

My co-worker brought back apples from PA which were insanely delicious. It is crazy how something so small can taste so awesome. I ate like three of them, and then hid the rest like a squirrel.

And in totally unrelated, but equally awesome news, I rode the subway with a bear last night.

Dudes. It’s been at least a year since my last blog post. I apologize. I cannot say what I’ve been doing these past few weeks. Not because I’m working on a supersecret project, but because I honestly don’t remember. In fact, if you read my Twats I haven’t been doing much of anything. Look, I lead a boring life. I am a boring person. I eat, I read, and then I fall asleep while I read. Somewhere in there I write something, drink something, and wake up feeling bad about myself and other people. Occasionally I feel bad about children, good god think of the children! There’s not much to talk about. I shot a bear. No that was a lie. I just lied. Sorry.

Tonight there is rock practice. Starting now, each of our practices have a theme. Tonight’s theme is “no pants.” This means that no one is allowed to wear pants. No pants. Quite simple. Pants are not allowed. I realize in British English, pants means underpants. This theme could stand if we were in British England. I do not care. British, American, Canadian. Whatever you call it, no pants.

Thank you.

Hey you guys, just so you know the CINCO DE MAYO COUNTDOWN IS ON! Only 361 days until Cinco de Mayo! I know that’s not a lot of time, and I can’t wait!

MY APARTMENT SMELLS LIKE VOMIT. I DID NOT VOMIT. HOWEVER, IT SMELLS LIKE VOMIT, IT IS A MYSTERY. I MUST WRITE IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE ONE CANNOT DISCUSS MYSTERIES WITHOUT WRITING IN ALL CAPS.

FOR EXAMPLE, WHICH IS MORE MYSTERIOUS:

Who really killed John F. Kennedy?

OR

WHO REALLY KILLED JOHN F. KENNEDY?

SEE THE SECOND OPTION IS MUCH MORE MYSTERIOUS. IT MAKES ME WANT TO SOLVE THE MYSTERY SO IT IS NO LONGER A MYSTERY AND ONLY FACT.

THIS BRINGS ME BACK TO THE ORIGINAL POINT, WHICH IS, WHY DOES MY APARTMENT SMELL LIKE VOMIT IF I AM THE ONLY ONE HERE AND I, IN FACT, DID NOT VOMIT.

I CANNOT FIND THE SOURCE. THUMBS DOWN SITUATION. ALSO MYSTERIOUS SITUATION.

New thing that is happening from inside my human body: When I walk, my left knee clicks. CLICKS. Loudly. Like it sounds like I’m wearing heels, except I am not and instead of it being from a heel, it is from a knee. Dude. Like click, click, click. It is SO annoying. Click, click, click. Can you imagine that sound following you wherever you go? I want to rip my knee out. And I can feel it too. Like some tendon or something ‘catches’ on a piece of bone and then I feel pressure build up and then it clicks. I will spare you the details. The point is, my body is making noises and it’s not coming from my mouth, nose, or butt, where is in general where all the noises should come from a human body. OK I guess I could add hands because you can clap and snap. You guys all know how fond I am of clapping and snapping. Hah. You know, no one ever says that. I LOVE clapping! It is not one of those things adults like to do. I cannot wait to go to the rock show so I can CLAP!

Speaking of rock show, my friend Luke Top opened for Peter Bjorn and John this weekend. Three SOLD-OUT ROCK shows, two in NY and one in Philly. Shows were great. Two other friends are in his band, Micah Calabrese (of Giant Drag, ex-Giant Drag, and now Giant Drag again) and Kangmin who is a man of few words but then when he talks it always blows your mind or makes you laugh. That is the opposite of what I do. I am one of many words, and only few blow your mind. My strategy is to machine gun an area and hope I hit the target, but in the process, I end up killing a lot of old ladies and children and the occasional seal pup. Anyway, I was trying to convince them to do rock squats and guitar solo back bends but they weren’t having it. I hate them. If YOU CAN’T DO A ROCK SQUAT ON STAGE WHAT IS THE POINT OF LIVING?

This is what I know: If I did a rock squat, my knee would probably give out.

I think, maybe just maybe, I am getting old. But it is hard to say.