2004-02-03 - 12:07 a.m.

Wicked nice that the Pats won the Superbowl. Woooooooo!

But first off, Saturday night was wicked nice too. After I got outta work, the Roommate and I made our way to TTs to see Mittens and the Pills. Let me tell you this--if you live in Boston and haven't heard either of these bands, please make it a point to do so at your next opportunity. The Boston music scene is kinda like Saturday Night Live--sometimes it's hot, usually it's dead, but when it's amazing and you're watching it, you're watching something truly special. Mittens and the Pills are two of the funnest, most passionate, most accessible, best bands I've seen live in years, local or national, and to see both play on the same night was like watching short sets from Sebadoh and Weezer from the front row and in a hey I feel like a beer after this song so I'll go and get one and come back and watch the next song kind of viewing experience.

Superbowl Sunday was awesome and let's just leave it at that. Watched it at home--good food. Kinda sad that I can't bust out lyrics from the Hey Ya remix from Jamn 94.5 (comedy goldmine, by the way). I remember and cherish the 2002 Superbowl, and getting to watch people go crazy, but not this year.

I guess all I'll say is that, yes, I did see Janet Jackson's tit flop out. And I was stunned. Unfortunately, I was the only person by a TV at the moment, so my declaration kind of went like I can't promise that this actually happened, but I THINK Justin Timberlake just told Janet Jackson that she was going to be naked by the end of the song, and then he ripped her tit out. But I can't promise that that actually happened. No. Forget it. That didn't actually happen.

And then the Pats won.

And then the Roommate pulled up the Drudge Report and there was the nipple pastie.

My view on this? You fuckers. I don't care about wholesomeness, believe me. I care about quality of music. The amount of drivel I'm forced to listen to is limited to what's on the radio when I get my coffee at Dunkie's. And each and every day, I have more proof in my convictions. This publicity stunt furthers my belief that anyone who listens to this crap deserves to be delighted by such distractions forever and ever and ever.

This was supposed to be about FOOTBALL.

(Not a distraction.)

Today was splendid.

The Roommate and Julianne (I guess I should just call her that, because the Roommate's friend J. is awkward and takes forever to type), anyway, those who watched the Superbowl with me all took a day off today.

Monday off.

My eye was on the five day forecast all week leading up to this day--38 degrees (as opposed to 19 with a 2 degree wind chill factor), and it paid off. The best day in a month to take off.

So we walked from Somerville to Mass Ave and Newbury, and got some lunch at the Other Side, where I will forever order the same sandwich.

It felt like Spring all day. Julianne left us, and the Roommate and I marched on towards Harvard, stopping for Buds at the Middle East, the People's Republic, and Shay's. And we found a brand new store that I'm not telling anyone about except for my dear friend H. (allie?).

At two different Newbury Comicses, I shopped for a good birthday gift for Randy Research (who shall forever be known as Randy Research, like it or not), and along the way picked up two GBV singles (one with seven tracks), and that's the most reckless I've been with my spending in some time. My defense in this category is starting to take on the mythos of a dynasty.

I dunno. I guess that�s it.