Good news: I got that check. It was in my mail box Sunday. Bad news: Once again the landlord feels like it's okay to hold onto my mail. I don't know why that would be okay in anyone's book. I mean -- fuck!

I went to Cobb's with Di last night, Lee Levine, (he was the only jewish kid in his neighborhood and the anti-Semitism was oddly personalized. "You know who's in charge of the media? Lee Levine. Let's get him.") Clark Taylor, (who has a long bit on his family shopping at The Walmart, that I can't possibly recreate, go see him and ask him before the show if he could, please, do it) and Jake Johannsen (On the east coast black out, "Some people were saying that the black out was a terrorist act. I'm a pussy but you've got to do more to scare me than turn out the lights. At least chase me or something. Ooooo, here comes the tickle monster!") A good time was had by all.

But I'm still feeling a little pissy about the mail being put in my box so late. Tsk. People.