Groupie or Stalker? You Decide

At the risk of not revealing too much I found out that when Colin Farrell’s in town for the Toronto film festival he goes to Hemingway’s for a drink. What a coincidence! I go there too when I’m in town for the festival. And I am in town every September (but mainly to run into John Cusack).

So I parked myself at the bar in Hemingway’s and waited and waited and waited (and accidentally learned all about hockey while waiting). Colin was a no show. Newspapers reported he got a little bogged down with picking up a homeless guy and finding him an apartment.

Friggin’ homeless guy.

And then I ate at a restaurant in Malibu where John Cusack reportedly sits at the counter eating his avocado eggroll. After a no-show, I hopped over to the nearby drugstore. I figured he'd have to buy toothpaste sometime. I waited and waited and waited (and accidentally counted 34 different brands of toothpaste among countless whitening and breathe refreshing products). Turns out John was in Chicago visiting the family.

Friggin' Cusack family.

So I couch surfed in Chicago—but not to run into John. I was there for the real guy in my life - Jeff Tweedy (and yes, for a harried with children chick I do get around). Last February I bought a scalper’s ticket on eBay (after seeing this guy twice in the last 6 months) because I love Jeff Tweedy. I mean, I LOVE JEFF TWEEDY. My life’s motto: WWJTD.

And who is Jeff Tweedy? This, Internets, is Jeff Tweedy:



And hang in there for Nels Cline's fabulous whammy guitar stuff.

Muzzle of Bees

There's a random painted highway
And a muzzle of bees
My sleeves have come unstitched
From climbing your tree

And dogs laugh, some say they're barking
I don't think they're mean
Some people get so frightened
Of the fences in between

And the sun gets passed from tree to tree
Silently, and back to me
With the breeze blown through
Pushed up against the sea
Finally back to me

I'm assuming you got my message
On your machine
I'm assuming you love me
And you know what that means

Sun gets passed, sea to sea
Silently, and back to me
With the breeze blown through
Pushed up above the leaves

With the breeze blown through
My head upon your knee
Half of it's you, half is me
Half of it's you, half is me

For more Music Mondays, check out Soccer Mom in Denial. For more folks in denial, check out Humor-Blogs. For more Wilco and Couch Surfing in Chicago, stay tuned.