So thanks in part to Julia - who played me a little of it in her car - and also in part to my insatiable penchant for illegally downloaded music, I just "borrowed" the new Alicia Keys album off Limewire.
Oh, alright! I stole it! Are you happy now? I feel filthy!
Anyway.
For the most part, I like it. I've never been a huge fan of ole' A.K, but this album seems to be made up of songs about love, or love lost, or being in love but not being with the person you love...just really sad shit. And you know me; any excuse to take off my clothes, curl into a ball and weep openly.
Aha. I'm kidding about the naked thing, but the rest is true. No, it's all a lie. No, okay, the naked thing is true, but the other stuff is made up. I like to take my clothes off and listen to Alicia Keys is basically what I'm trying to say. What I don't understand is the album cover. It reminds me of a hawaiian print skirt I once almost bought at Supre when I was 12:
What is going on here? But I'm not going to go on about it. If you're curious about the actual music, give this a listen. And if you'd like to have an orgasm, try this.
So I had dinner with the aforementioned Julia and our friends Leigh and Anna last night. Hi guys! Ah, who am I kidding, they won't read this. We hit up The Longy, also known as The Longueville Hotel, also known as The Best Place In Town To Get Drunk Because It's Walking Distance From My House. I had this grudge against the Longy for so long, I think because it's where my sister and her sailing buddies used to hang out and I assumed the place was just full of pissed sailors and old men. It is, but I dropped the grudge when I discovered how good their hot chips are. Damn. Or, as my Dad would say if he was thinking about Heath Ledger, day-em!
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