(diaryland) January 27, 2002 - 12:34 a.m.

Breakfast of Champions played a gnarly gig at the Arthouse on Wednesday night. After paying da mixah, we made seventy bucks! I played so bad it was good, but the other two band dudes played like rock gods as per usual. We made up a song last week which for some reason we decided to play for the gig, so I had to think up shit to sing whilst we were playing it. But because I�m such a good bullshit artist, I got through it. I just sang stuff that rhymed with �snore�. I should do theatresports or something. In fact, because we were concentrating so hard on getting the song right, we didn�t make any mistakes at all. The same can�t be said about me for any other song, but hey, at least this time I played everything in the right tuning. I have been known to stay in drop-D at completely the wrong times.

Michele almost got impaled on the drumkit.

Anyway, the best part of the gig was when Rosie gave me a greeting card that said'pants' on it.

I had a nap before the gig. I was peacefully sleeping and then Roland came into my room and said, �Dude.�

Approximately three seconds after he said that, my sleeping self thought, �Hm. It might be time for me to wake up,� and then I did. I turned over, and there was this Roland, standing in the room, smiling benevolently! It scared the bejeezus out of me! I did not hear him say, �Dude.� Not one bit. I thought I was clever and had woken up all of my own accord. But smiling Roland woke me up, obviously. He was just standing there! And the smile! The crazy, crazy benevolent smile! I almost wet the bed.

God, it was scary.

The moral of this story is to remember your mother�s birthday.