A not-so-guilty pleasure

"This coming from the owner of 'Justified.'"

Saturday nights were showers and blowdryers, mascara and high-heeled black boots. Dark slim bootcut denim with black shirts, white polo collars optional. Rose-stained lips worked best with minimal jewlery, while cell phones were charged and tucked into purse pockets.

The sampled intro filtered into bathrooms, where Diet Coke and Bicardis rested on countertops next to hairbrushes. It would be cued just before the next-to-last lookover. One more toss of hair before congregating in the hallway.

Before it was overplayed, before the Bally's commercials, it was the irrepressible kickoff to a night of debauchery. Track 6 each Saturday. "I fucking LOVE this song!" Raise the glass, shake the ass. Start getting excited about the evening ahead.

Adams Morgan, vodka crans and chance encounters would come later, as would the cover charges, Pizza Mart and cab rides home. But during that last half hour at the apartment, dancing, rum and Justin were all we needed.
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In other news. The V Honorary Bostonian Tour continues this weekend. Special musical guest: Matt Nathanson. V Tour sponsored by: Saturn cars, the International Coffeegrowers Association, Nikon, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and Buddha's Delight.

this is a song about a shirt that you just love. it's your favorite shirt and you wear it all the time, which means, in the natural progression of things, it starts to get ... tighter. and it clings and becomes so tight that it's squeezing your chest until it's going to kill you. so, naturally, you have to cut off the shirt. but you're left with these scars where the shirt used to be. and the shirt is a lying asshole! - 2.4.04