Before I begin I'd like to point you here. photos of the first few microseconds of an atomic blast, if you're interested
In case anyone was wondering about the title, it comes from Cream lyrics. I don't know if I've mentioned at all how awesome the new(ish) Cream dvd is, but if I have before it bears repeating. That seeing that dvd again was likely the pinaccle of my weekend is another matter (the botched plans were probably my fault). For the benefeit of anyone whom I haven't made abundantly aware of this, I can't get enough Eric Clapton. The prevailing body of opinion amongst hipsters is that Cream was when he rocked the hardest, which is a notion I have a hard time arguing against. Of course, the fact that most of the people I roll with only acknowledge his Cream years means that any discussion of Clapton is, well, short. His "Cream years?" there were two of them. Clashing egos were the band's ruination. And this was a band that featured the indisputed best drummer and only somewhat disputed best guitarist of the day. So naturally, when the band does a reunion forty years at the Royal Albert Hall, there is a run on the box office. And for good reason. Those guys still rock so hard.
And they've said that they want to do a US tour in 06. So let this be a warning. If I at any point in this calander year go absolutely fucking nuts in this space you have, well, one possible cause. I'm not going to say there aren't others.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. One of the first readers to this site has recently made her triumphant return and I have yet to welcome her back fo-... well okay, maybe "formally is not a word that can be used to describe anything I do here. Anyways, welcome back Sammy.
Class now *groan*. More later