Whoa, dude...
Mar. 13th, 2004 11:53 amThe word "dude," I must admit, does occasionally make its way into my spoken vocabulary, but I'm reluctant to use it in my written diatribes, unless something sufficiently awe-inspiring and wonderful crops up.
And so I say: Whoa, dude...
daev requested my mailing address not too long ago, for unspecified reasons (other than a vague reference to "goods"). Well, the goods arrived today: item one is a CD from the inimitable and astounding FiddleGoddess Lisa Boucher, with her personal compliments. The other (omigodomigodomigod) is a much-valued copy of Record Service 20th Birthday: 20 Years of Music from Champaign-Urbana. Still sealed. In a freaking longbox, kids. I'm almost afraid to open the thing. (But open it I shall: it's got the Elvis Brothers, Captain Rat and the Blind Rivets...omigod, the Outnumbered? Omigodomigodomigod...)
daev, I bow before you, deeply in awe and in your eternal debt. We'll need to discuss return payment of goods in some way or another (although I sincerely doubt I have anything that you don't have).
And so I say: Whoa, dude...
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)