So nothing pisses on an otherwise decent weekend quite like a trans-Atlantic phone call from four of your closest pals, drunkenly crowing about what an awesome, superfun time they're having in Manchester when you're stuck in your apartment and facing another wretched week of humping your ass for the Man. Call me self-absorbed, call me an asshole, but the notion that I'm obliged to toast someone else's good fortune is for the birds.
Now that I've got that out of the way, I'm totally stoked about seeing Radiohead and Wilco in Vancouver at the end of the month. It's going to be awesome superfun time. And you should be totally happy for me.
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