In light of the recent news of "Dude, even Holly Choppa (wink) reads your blog, you had bett er update" I've decided to give it a shot. They won't be long, wordy posts like before. I'm going to take a page from Aaron "Goldman Frankel and" Weinberg and just post little bits of internet deliciousness.

And, to be a good sport, I won't canibalize Jade's blog. Because Aaron hasn't sucked all the funny out of it, but he should get on that. (edit: Dude, Jade updated her blog 2 hours ago! Wierd.)

This particular post is to tell you that, though I have no idea if it's good, the new Pernice Brothers record is out. (And probably very good. The graphics on the front of their homepage are good enough for me to buy their new record, but I'm...y'know, troubled.) I wanted to link directly to Joe Pernice's blog post here, but since that doesn't work, here's the funny and awesome part.

A Note From Joe

Hello Everyone,
I am a little shaky because I am eight days into an insane, two-week liver cleansing diet. My brother Bob was on it a few years ago and he felt great. Supposedly the best he's ever felt, for what that's worth. Then his house and just about everything he owned burned to the ground which started him on a diet of a completely different kind. There we were a couple weeks ago in Yankee Stadium, stuffing our faces with hot dogs and miniature batting caps full of these kooky ice cream pellets, if you will (the likes of which I have not seen at Fenway), when we decided it was time for a cleanse. Anyway, I have been shockingly disciplined, though as you may tell, food is always on my mind. (Maybe I didn't love it, quite as often as I should have). No caffeine, no booze, no refined sugar, no wheat products, no dairy. I get to eat two eggs a day, eight ounces of meat, some ground flax (see sawdust), some flaxseed oil (see sawdust oil) and anything else a sane rabbit would eat (except carrots and potatoes). I drink about a gallon of water mixed with unsweetened cranberry juice. Why am I doing this you might ask? Because I am a terrible, terrible person. Really, that's the only satisfactory answer I can come up with.

As I mentioned in a previous note, I live right next to a Portuguese bakery. I swear, I dream of bread as often and as longingly as the rest of you dream of sex. My wife and I took my mother-in-law to a movie for Mother's Day. Don Cheadle's voice was so smooth and smoky, all I could think about were those hickory flavored Pringles and a cream soda. Damn them all, including Don Cheadle. So help me, I saw an abandoned McDonalds french fry on the sidewalk and I nearly knelt down and wept. And not one hour ago, I watched a small child being pulled in a plastic Radio Flyer wagon. With his saliva-shiny lips and terrible pick-pick-pick kid fingers, he was abusing a gorgeous plain donut (with chocolate glaze and rainbow sprinkles).

"How dare you?" I growled as we passed in the crosswalk. "How DARE YOU, you fraud?" His mother prudently picked up the pace.

This has got to stop. Six more days.

It just dawned on me. Brother Bob gave me a pasta machine for a wedding gift...Hmmm....It's all becoming clear to me now. He's messing with my head.

Only two things keep me going: Major League Baseball and The Wire. Both are highly recommended.

The band will be out on tour this summer around North America. Don't quote me on this, but I think the first date is sometime in mid-July. Again, it's always best to consult with www.pernicebrothers.com. I truly have no idea when and where I am playing. My wife has joined our mailing list (so can you) just to know where I am.

I think that's about it for now. I will try to write something with more depth, wit and clarity when I re-introduce carbohydrates into my life. Until then (and beyond), keep your hands away from my mouth.

Buy the new Pernice joint here or here. Then burn me a copy, sucka.