I’ve heard Undercover Angel two different times on two different radio stations in the past five days, and this fact frightnes me just a little. I’m even more frightened, though, by the rest of the top five songs from the week of 9 July 1977, as listed on that page to which I just linked. It was a very bad week in music history.

I guess America was just too busy celebrating the recent arrival of one of its newest citizens. Which is as good a way as any to leave hints about his upcoming birthday, I guess.

What if they built an airline, and you were only allowed to go to and from Columbus, Ohio on it?

My local airport is one of those served by the new Skybus Airlines. Their fares are great, with every flight having a certain number of seats as low as ten bucks. There’s only one problem: if you want to fly someplace other than Columbus, you still not only have to go through there, but you also have to spend the night. That’s because all flights into Columbus (from all destinations, as far as I can tell) are in the afternoon, while all flights out are in the morning.

Am I just missing something, or is this complete madness? Is there really that much demand for an airline that basically only serves this one midwest city? And, in particular, are there really that many people itching to fly there from Greensboro of all places?

Columbus is a nice place and all, but jeez…

Is it just me, or is there something unspeakably ghoulish about the concept of Piggly Wiggly selling whole pigs for $1.19 per pound? And is it perhaps even more ghoulish that their cartoon spokespig looks so damned excited about it?

More pictures from our day trip to Fayetteville (a/k/a “The Armpit of North Carolina”) coming soon, I hope.

Mark and I went to the annual Shepherd’s Center Used Book Sale yesterday, and found lots of great stuff. In addition to picking up about thirty books, I also grabbed a stack of old VHS tapes some guy had recorded from MTV in the late 1980s and early 1990s. I’m always on the lookout for that kind of thing.

I got home and started looking through them. There were a good batch of “120 Minutes” and “Headbangers’ Balls” shows included in the collection, along with some general stuff. I popped in the one marked “Guns ‘n’ Roses”, and was immediately transported back almost twenty years. It was not, however, due to Axl Rose’s onscreen presence, but to that of another long-haired guy, one who was actively buggering some other guy in a scene from a porn video I’d owned around 1990. As it turned out, the whole tape was full of random homoporn.

Somehow, I had the tremendouos urge to meet this Winston-Salem guy, who, in 1991, labelled his porn stash “Guns ‘n’ Roses”. At any rate, I briefly pondered going back over to the sale and seeing whet other mislabeled goodies I could find.