THE IPOD IS THE ELECTRONIC CRACK COCAINE

I'm telling you, it's true. Thanks to my lovely wife, I have officially become a junkie.

Again.

Now it's the IPod. What a wondrous instrument this little beast is!

I had been wanting one for a while, but was really looking firstly at the Dell mp3 players because, well, I have a Dell craptop. But then, what happened happened. And we don't go into the details anymore.

Well, then my wife tells me she's gonna pick me up from work last Friday. Not opposed to a ride home every now and then, I agree. We meet at the rendevous point, I hop in the car and she hands me a paper bag. I open the paper bag, about the size of a fast food sack and inside is a little black box. Upon further inspection, I discover it's an IPod--one of those new nice Camaros with video capabilities. Really nice.

Well, it didn't take me long at all to get the hang of the ITunes thingy and now I'm officially addicted. The compiling process is especially addictive. I've been loading the best of the best--my thought is that I don't wanna waste time listening to crap anymore. The only stuff on this machine (which is now to be called the j3 Musical Massacre) is the killer, the best, the most ass-kickinest, roundhousin' collective compilation of music on the face of this earth.

For instance, on my walk to work the other day, I heard the JBs, Public Enemy, Awol One and House of Pain. Now that's beautiful.

In other news, that remake of The Hills Have Eyes looks completely bazerk. You know I like the Deliverance flicks. Oughta be a dandy!

Countdown to skiing brings us within a week. Freaking awesome. Snow should be decent, but not anything like it used to be. Starting to give some thought to this global warming junk--you gotta think something's happening when Taos can only get 16-18 inches of snow in an entire winter. Hell, we didn't even have winter in Amarillo. I think it only dipped below zero once this winter. Only traces of snow. Beyond that almost no participation to speak of.

Kinda frightening. On the last day of February, we reached 88 degrees.

Softball teams getting back together. Gotta few new players and less a few players from last year--most notably Brian "Ump Killah" Morgan. He moved to Montana, Wyoming, somewhere. We'll miss him dearly. Especially when there's a questionable strike called. Always nice to have that one guy (contemplating another installment of There's Always That Guy) to argue the calls with the umps. It gives them something to fear--especially the youngin's. Those young reps are fearing everytime they make a call. They almost flinch after every pitch because they thing they're only one bad call from getting their tail beat senseless in the parking lot by ten bottle-weilding officeleaguers.

Donovan's CD "Gadaha" came in the mail the other day. Dude, Uncle Pantera is straight insane. Some of these compositions are just so crazy, I listen to the over and over again. He's to the string bass as Basquiat was to canvas.

Donovan Stokes "Gadaha"--find it online and buy it. He's my uncle and he plays the meanest bass you've ever heard.

Wolfmother still rocks your face off your head. Recognize.