O Perfect Saturday, how I adored thee: the weather cooled down, I got a haircut so I finally look presentable when I meet with Goodell to discuss my concerns*, had a milkshake, found out that Muhammad Ali’s grandson plays on that Bishop Gorman team with Cordell Broadus(!), watched USC win, and I got all these pretty pretty records including, yes, fuckin Foghat, deal with it.
I’m pretty Locals Only when it comes to my favorite record shops because I’m a jerk and I only want the good things in life to happen to me and nobody else but me. So even though this looks like a pretty rad haul from Record Jungle, owned by the wonderful Andy who prices everything way lower than he could (because he is wonderful), it’s really not up your alley. I mean, ew, they let fake record nerd girls shop there, so you’re better off just staying away.
* of which I have MANY
No disrespect, Ramsey, but in my house, “Sun Goddess” is referred to as the “The ‘Hope I Don’t Go Back’ Beat.” ALAS, FINALLY, YOU GUYS, a tribute to my English & Economics professor, the mighty 40 Water! Sorry it took me so long.
(Special appearance by Xavier, Nick, & Shawne behind me, relaxing on the the bench after ballin outta control, oh wait no being mediocre as fuck.)