The bad: I had to put Bear down a week ago today. He was the grumpiest, handsomest cat with beautiful thick white whisker and little white toes. It hurts.
Here’s a picture of him plotting something evil. Like murdering baby bunnies by throwing them off of highway bridges. That shit is evil, but he would look so dashing doing it.
I’m pretty sure he’s belting out a pretty ballad about the bloody stool he’d like to squeeze out on my mosaic. He was punk rock like that.
The good: Seeing Jeff Mangum Sunday night at ACL’s Moody Theater. Sure, I literally cried through almost the whole thing (except a Daniel Johnston cover song—I felt no emotion for that), and sang those well-loved Neutral Milk Hotel songs through some serious blubbering. It was a bit of much needed magic in my life.
I don’t have any pictures to share, because I got in trouble just using my phone to check the time. Since almost everyone there was so in love with Jeff Mangum, everyone obeyed the no-photos edict. We wouldn’t dare disappoint our beloved recluse.
Instead, here’s the first of two sangrias I had before the show (which forced me to pee during Naomi, but thankfully I made it through Ghost first—I would have gladly peed myself to avoid missing that song).
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