I provide you with two (TWO!) photos of actual evidence of my socks saying ‘bring on the barefoot season already!‘.

And of course, in true sock style, the holes never appear until I am *at* work, walking around with no shoes on. Never. So disappointing.

I just totally ordered a pile of donairs from Truro to be delivered to my office tomorrow.

Somehow this feels wrong, but I am almost looking forward to their arrival. Even though I hate donair meat.

Why couldn’t we have wanted lobster?

Kat posted some photos of the Matt Mays show we all caught Monday night. For a change, Zaphod’s was jam packed, bursting at the seams (with a huge lineup out fron tto get in. Good thing I scrounged my freebie tickets last week), and full of hipsters trying to get their hands on Matt.

It was a great show, going on until well after midnight. The Novaks and The Architects opened, and were surprisingly good (you never know *what* to expect at a free show). It was also (come midnight) the official release date of Matt Mays & El Torpedo’s latest album, which they tossed out to a bunch of people in the crowd.

I have to admit, though, that I found it a little strange to see the twerpy grungy little boy that I grew up with (we went to grade school together in Dartmouth) being lusted after by hordes of girls. At the end of the show, while I was waiting in the oh-my-god huge lineup to say ‘hey’, I got to be amused by the sheer number of women who just wanted to give him a kiss, or have him sign. their. shirts. Yes….you heard right. Sharpie, meet vintage button-downs. So strange.

Also, the other guitarist in the band? He acts like he thinks he’s all that, but really, he’s just another pretty face. Next!