Canned Chicken: The Other White Meat

The sheer amount of ridiculousness amounting from my ridiculously long days, each week, is beginning to reach excessive levels of ridiculous. But TGIF!

Thursdays are the final night in my string of super happy fun-time days that kick off my week. Usually my order of business is working from 9AM to anywhere before 7PM and then proceeding with my last class of the week from 7-10PM.

This week however I got to bolt out of said class early, following a quick group meeting and was able to mosey along - even in the rain, I still moseyed - to my next destination.

Rather than that being directly towards the location in which I find myself sleeping on a floor every Thursday night, it turned out to be Yuk Yuk's. Last night happened to be the birthday shindig of one of the owners of the floor I find myself sleeping on at least once a week.

The rest of my night consisted of a decent half of a stand-up lineup, a walk across town in the rain, funny stories, funnier people, Strongbow and some pretty badass cake.

One of the running gags of the evening involved someone's love affair with canned chicken - and someone else's displeasure of said canned chicken. Mainly with the fact that it smells like tuna when opened. Last night however I got to hear both sides of the story, whereas Wednesday I only got the flip side of the coin. The ensuing defense of what I now call "The Other White Meat", was pretty damned hilarious. But I have to give canned chicken the benefit of the doubt - at least for now.

Moral of the story: Someone is going to remind me to buy someone some fresh chicken to cook on a Thursday night in the near future.

The words Battlestar Galactica came up about 50,000 times as well last night, mainly because Caprica is about to start back up in two weeks. As people began to disperse for the evening we started to bust out some tunes, including the soundtracks from BSG. Anyone who has seen BSG knows Bear Mcreary's cover of All Along the Watchtower.

Well, I should say everyone except for one person last night, who had never even heard the cover by Jimi Hendrix, nor the original by Bob Dylan. Crazyness right? I know.

Needless to say this began the first of what most likely will become a series of musical education courses by yours truly. And inadvertent exposure to extreme genres like Grindcore, because band names with Bears involved tend to cause curiosity.

On top of prepping for my classes, exams and assignments next week, I now also have to come up with a course plan and listening material. It's serious business.

But that just means I get to listen to awesome shit - which I do all the time already, so I've pretty much got this down.