I couldn�t get that JXL/Elvis remix of �A little less conversation� out of my head all weekend. It samples Blind Melon�s �Three is the Magic Number,� or most likely, samples the riff that Blind Melon sampled for that remake. Does anyone even remember where riffs originate anymore?

A little less conversation, a little more action.

That�s good shit.

It was unbearably hot this weekend and I was OTR, which is just a bad combination. Putting on my bathing suit was like encasing a sausage. I went to the beach and immediately sat my chair at the edge of the water and let the waves crash over me, lifting up my battered copy of �On the Road� in time with the surf. It was HOT and there was a massive school of fish about 5 feet out, which basically spells shark for me. I called myself out from swimming.

I stayed in Friday night and was in bed by 11:30. Woke up Saturday morning around 10AM, feeling great. Walked downtown and did some shopping along the main drag of our town, idly chatting with shop owners. Came home and sat down, when my brother came crashing into my apartment, nearly delirious and covered in scratches and scrapes. I didn�t even move.

�What�s up?�

�Well, you missed A NIGHT.�

�What happened?�

�We just got home from Atlantic City around 7 or 8 this morning.�

�Thank GOD, I didn�t go out.�

�Look at my head.� There�s a small scrape on his forehead.

�What happened?�

�No idea. X said I fell.�

�Nice.�

�And then there was this hooker��

�Oh, Good God. What have you done?�

�Nothing, she came up TO ME. She was ugly, I told her to get off of me.�

�How�s everyone else?�

�Good. Except for F. who we lost around 6AM and we think may still be at a casino. We are a little concerned because his wife was coming home from vacation with her parents at 9AM and we think he may not be home and we didn�t clean up the house.�

I let out a low whistle. Boy, am I glad I wasn�t with those morons. My friend, F�s wife, is going to kick his ass if he isn�t home when she arrives with her parents.

�I�ve heard enough. Try to pull yourself together.�

�I don�t know if I can even go to the beach. Did you see my elbow?� There�s an open wound.

Later at the beach:

�F.! Heard you got lost last night. Glad to see you made it home from Atlantic City.�

�Atlantic City? I wasn�t at Atlantic City.�

�Sure you were, right after the Irish Pub.�

�I wasn�t at the Irish Pub.�

�Riiiiight.�

�I�m going to put my chair in the water.�

Come on baby, I�m tired of talkin��

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