Hilariously unprintable

…. the contents of a phone call last night.  My personal life continues to be serene on the surface, at least.

In other news, I phoned Paul night before last and said, “We have to make an album.”  So last night instead of going to Jericho (Mike was working anyway) we practiced Ramboing, Ericka’s Song and Come Out.  The list of tunes we want to work on is much higher than twenty, and both of us are appalled at the prospect of securing rights, but, I guess we have to.  Fortunately for my stuff that’s something I don’t need to worry about.

FCC body checked.