Woo-hoo! The Drunken Swimmers have somehow gotten a small wink & nod at a Seattle indie-pop site called Three Imaginary Girls, so yeah for us and yeah for TIG. Now if can only find out who the high school friend is in this sentence “…friend just turned me on to this: His high school friend’s band…”. It seems to be a tough nut to crack.
"The genetically vicious nature of presidential campaigns in America is too obvious to argue with, but some people call it fun, and I am one of them. Election Day — especially a presidential election — is always a wild and terrifying time for politics junkies, and I am one of those, too. We look forward to major election days like sex addicts look forward to orgies. We are slaves to it."
"…Even the logorrheic Twitter users who text minutiae to all their friends are now tuning out, and no one wants to go back to blogging (except using the newish Tumblr platform, which they’ll tire of this summer).”
"…The Famous Bowl hit my mouth like warm soda, slouched down my throat, and splayed itself across my stomach like a sun-stroked wino. It was that precise combination of things, and so many other sensations that did not go together. At all."
Imagine if every few hours you would get a really good idea. When I say ‘really good’, I mean like, you cure cancer and fix world poverty before lunch and discover the origin of man by 3 o’clock. The only problem is that it’s really no good in a fight with the incredible Hulk unless you can figure out a really good use for being broken the fuck in half…