Omaha, NE - basement

I'm loving this Weasel Radio stuff. Good shit. His co-host Owen sounds like an adult Kermit the Frog. Which doesn't make sense since Kermit was, presumably, an adult. But I mean it in the sense of he sounds like Kermit but a more mature, deeper voice...if that makes any sense.

So the mother-in-law is moving out of current house and moving into a community. Not an old folkie home, but sort of. It's not as if she's going to be waited on or anything. They clean and provide food but aside from that, it's basically like living on your own. And it comes out cheaper for her per month than her current situation.

On a sort of plus side, she's selling the house in the spring so Jeanne and I have a place until then which is good because we can get ahead on bills and stuff and by then our credit report should be updated and we'll be able to get an apartment.

I've been busy cleaning the kitchen at work because no one there has cleaned or organized the place in years. It's a total warzone. There's nothing sanitary there or anything to tell when something was opened or expiration dates or any order in anything. There were boxes in the freezer that was empty or had a bag with two things in it.

Co-workers are fun nontheless.

This past weekend there was a band there. It was this sort of Jazz-Blues band that was very bad, but they were playing hard and it was hard to watch. There were five people in the place, all regulars, and no one clapped after any song, nor were they paying any attention.

The guitarist was this kid in an off white suit, the bass player was this black guy who looked like an informant from a 70's cop show, and the drummer was this old, balding Asian guy who looks like a high school guidance counselor.

I felt bad for them, but in the kitchen I couldn't stop making fun of them. I was doubled over laughing because it's their first gig, but any band would at least have some friends there to support them. They had no one. No entourage. No anything. What's the deal with traffic?

Last night was Wing Night and I didn't even make one wing. I tried to make a fried salad the other night. Not to eat, but just to do it.

I need to get a boom box for work. There's a radio there but I only listen to NPR and get bored of that and can't get myself to listen to any station, so I brought my DVD player there but the speakers aren't that great. I rocked Danzig all night.

I also may get a cheap TV there because there's a cable hook up in the kitchen and if there's a TV there, there's wrestling.

Ben and Owen are playing a Nickelback song "Rockstar" and making fun of it. "He's Canadian. Why's he singing like that?"