Dresden Dolls

OK. I'm quite excited today. On a whim I've bought tickets to go to the Wireless Festival, the Poor Man's Glastonbury as the organisers are strangely refusing to call it, from Lastminute.com (now only £25 with £0 booking fee). Now, the excitement derives only in small part from the fact I've paid £25 to stand in Hyde Park. The rest of the excitement is a strange co-mingling of: coffee; Friday; a lessening of existential worries that comes from my new-found belief that, Copernicus be damned, the world revolves around me; coffee; and the fact that my vagary of the moment, The Dresden Dolls, will be playing.

If you hear a better song this year than The Jeep Song, please let me know, because it would be a very good song indeed. It manages to soar, ache earnestly and be witty and angry. It really is very very good. Plus, they look funny. I suspect I'm in for some performance art this afternoon. Goody!

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In other news, I've given up my dreams of owning a fair-trade kitchen gadgets shop. It was stupid. It'd never work. I'm instead going to move into the more lucrative market of fantasy & role-playing games, orcs and elves, witches and wizards, that sort of thing. I'm going to call it 'Everybody's Tolkein At Me'.