Am I hallucinating...

...or is Italian goalkeeper Gigi Buffon totally working the John Cale look here?

One thing I'm not hallucinating is that HD positively rules, rules, rules! My eyes have seen the glory, and I can't tear them away. Standard definition - what's that? Hell, we've already forgotten.

More to come, when I can tear myself away from it all - Rave HD in particular. We're talking audio-visual heroin here. Even Simply Red, live from an ancient amphitheatre in Taormina, Sicily, looked and sounded phenomenal. There's also a mess of live festival performances, too - Glastonbury and Montreaux - and pardon my heart palpitations here - Later...with Jools Holland! With Los De Abajo and Goldfrapp slated for upcoming appearances, just to name a couple. Ooh La La indeed!

Syd Barrett, RIP

January 6, 1946 – July 7, 2006

I was half the way down, treading the sand
please, please, please lift the hand
I'm only a person with Eskimo chain
I tattooed my brain all the way...
Won't you miss me?
Wouldn't you miss me at all?

Wow! Not just a c***, but a plagiarist, too?

Could it be?

I'd still pay good money to see Ann Coulter drown in a puddle of her own puke. $50 and upwards...


Later...

OK, so maybe that's a bit harsh of me. My vindictiveness knows no bounds. It's true. So yeah, despite her poison-pen attack on the 9/11 widows or even that quip about how someone should poison Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens, I'm just gonna try to be the better Buddha here and ignore AC, freeze her out completely. Surely someday she'll see the error of her ways and repent, hopefully by donating her body to science so they can isolate and eradicate the gene that makes certain people so insufferably heartless and sociopathic.

Yeah.


Dear Sweet Little Pink-Cheeked, Blue-Eyed Lord / Blessed Goddess / Demon In The Tree, et al...

Please forgive me for my most unladylike and karmically-incorrect thoughts about Ann Coulter today. I do realize that if I'm not careful, I might come back in my next life as an anthrax spore or a spiteful, bulimic, best-selling author whose only talent - at the end of the day - is crawling up her own ass.


Make that $150.