If you don't know that lyric, too bad so sad...that means you haven't been listening to nearly enough Rancid. In case you have all forgotten (and I'm assuming most of you have), tonight is the much-anticipated Rancid concert. I am very excited, but am refraining from using too many exclamation points because I've begun to suspect it makes me look foolish. Do you think it is blaspemous that I am planning on working on my Anatomy flash cards on the way to the concert? Can I still pretend to be hip and with it (or as hip and with it as I can ever manage to be) after that?
In some sad news, the last surviving fish in my tank bit the bullet last night. We tested all aspects of my water last night, and everything checked out. I suspect a disease called ich is what did them in. Unfortunately, I have a live rock in my tank, and the medicine for ich can't be used with live rock. The thing to do in that case (which I did not do at all) is get a small tank set up for medicating fish. Also, if it was ich, the reading I've done has lead me to believe I should wait 8 weeks again before putting any more fish in the tank. Oy.
I just started reading a book called "Animals in Translation", written by an autistic woman and recommended to me by the guy who maintains the plants in our office (who hadn't read it, actually). It's a very interesting insight into the minds of animals. Perhaps I will write more about it later.
Back to the grindstone...
1 comment:
I have to admit that whenever I hear that band name, I'm reminded of my dad, the tanner of hides, who left one of his deer skins soaking in a pot of lye for far too long in the basement until it began to fill the house with its stench and my mom threw a fit and threw the whole mess out, only what do you do with several gallons of lye and deerhide that stinks to high heaven? Rock on!
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