i have on occasion known to be wrong, i know you might find that hard to believe but it does show that i am human and feel the same things as you mere mortals. again, apparently the specials are the hottest ticket in town, they are not as i said a bunch of fiftysomething geezers shuffling around the stage like trenchfoot victims. they are instead spritely fortysomethings with all the energy and zeal of an amphetamine convert. again, it just goes to show how wrong you can be.

i draw these conclusions based on what? and following a long train journey today this is the theory i came up with: watching musicians from my youth perform their greatest hits for oodles of cash irks me because it reminds me of my own mortality and how utterly short a time we have on the carpet that flows beneath us. because we only have a finite amount of time and space in which to coloour our canvas accordingly you must tirelessly strive for new experiences and watching the heroes of your youth whoring themselves in middle-age is counter to this untried and not b=very well thought through point of view. or something.

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