On My Way To Bed

But I had to stop and share this. One of my Facebook friends (what a misnomer that is!) posted a video, which I assure you I didn't watch, of a band he had recently seen called "Hot Bucket of Fuck."

I BEG your pardon?

What on earth is that even meant to convey? Admittedly, band names these days don't seem to mean anything anyway...unlike the old days, when they had perfectly sensible names like...um...the Shirelles. Yeah, OK. Maybe that remark about sensible doesn't hold up terribly well. And I will confess to being totally charmed by the name of a fairly recent band which seems to have disappeared (again, I never heard any of their music...my taste sort of basically stops dead after Jimi Hendrix when melodies died), which was called Toad The Wet Sprocket. I thought this was terrific.

And I will freely admit that I read something on the internet a while back about a group of nurses being censored because they had giggled at a patient's "ambiguous genitals." Don't you think Ambiguous Genitals would be a GREAT band name?

But Hot Bucket of Fuck?

Good God.

And no, since you asked, my goddamn buyers STILL have not closed and I am slowly losing what is left of my mind.

Growl.

On the other hand, Thanksgiving is over. It can't be all bad.

Love, Wendy