Went to Tom Petty Wednesday night with a concert-promoter friend. He just read the book Meat Is for Pussies (testimonial blurb provided by MMA fighter Jake Shields!), and decided to go vegeterian for three months. In preparation, he went in to get a colonoscopy. The doctor told him that due to a lifetime of being a pussy, he needed four. His next scheduled evacuation was the morning after the show, so he wasn't drinking, abstinence I joined him in, for solidarity. He did, however, bring Atomic Fireballs, which were just as delicious as I remembered them.
Tom Petty was also just as delicious as I remembered -- even the five new songs he considerately (for hit-lovers that can't deal with new songs) clustered into a mid-concert mini-set killed it, especially "First Flash of Freedom", which channeled Floyd, Zeppelin, and Ten Years After, or possibly some other psychedelic blues-jammer I've spent even less time listening to than Ten Years After.
Last night at a birthday party at Madam Geneva (old Brit slang for gin, I just learned), I told a friend who I swear to God looks just like Madeleine Stowe about my fireballing. Turns out she's family friends with the Ferraras, the Chicago candymakers behind Fireballs.
I swear I'm not pulling that coincidence out of my ass.
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