Did it move for you, baby?

At five thirty this mo', in a cheap motel room in Kal, i was awakened by an earth-shattering KABOOM. I staggered out, shook my fist, an', Stanley Kowalski-style, yelled into the dark desert sky, "Fuck you Superpit, fuck you all." I was thinking, of course, that it was the fluorescent orange brigade blowing unfeasibly large chunks of this goodly frame to Kingdom Come so as the extract a few grams of wedding ring. Why they had to wake me... ME, in this manner was beyond my 5:30 a.m. limits of tolerance and understanding.

turns out it was an earthquake.

It could end there, but i figure it is God, and not the be-mulletted 'solidly-built' crowd, who deserve my censure.

Are poor friends electric?

In conversation recently, a chappy told me that back in the '80s (remember them? I thought not.) he was in a two person synth band (remember them? I thought so.) that got a one-off write-up in the local paper. Therein they were described as 'a poor man's Gary Numan.'

Weeeelllllllllllll.

This raises as interesting question: Did the poor actually like Gary Numan?