“Music triggers some kind of response”

[“Music triggers some kind of response” — Chemical Brothers] While at the bookstore on Wednesday afternoon, fredlet and myself hounded the Cancer poet girl to read a little Carl Hiaasen, after all, the Cancer was from Florida, and that whacked out stuff might be good entertainment, mind candy from the drudge work of being such a wonderful academic. Yesterday morning, this fell down the virtual vacuum tube, from a Cap:
> The whole time I was reading Sick Puppy, [by Carl Hiaasen] > I pictured the main character, Twilly Spree, as looking like you . . .
I was actually quite honored — and very amused — by the comparison. Mr. & Mrs. fredlet popped in and out all day yesterday. Lunch at Hyde Park, then, a fabulous dinner consisting of many parts of fish that looked like they would all make excellent bait. Mrs. fredlet was astounded by my consumption of wasabi. I didn’t see the big deal, but she was busy snapping pictures of the stuff. And that sweet Pisces joined us, interestingly enough, she introduced herself as “no longer the sweet Pisces, just a Pisces now.” Off to the Permian Basin this morning, but this note from yesterday explains what I’m looking forward to:
> Dude, the boss said to tell you we’ll swing by and pick you up around noon
> tomorrow, so ask the old lady in the first trailer to chain them dogs. I
> just cleaned the tires on the Tahoe, and I don’t need no stinking dogs
> pissing all over them.