Sloppy and floundering and eating water.

It's 3 am.  I am home, I am drunk.  I danced and sang and screamed.  I lost my voice.  I hope to find it by morning.  I'm forcing myself to stay up long enough to drink a glass of water in the meager hopes that I won't be incapacitated by a massive hangover.  You have no idea how much editing this is taking so it is coherent and readable.  If the Nazis were Grammar Nazis, I'm Ann-effing Frank.

Little Blue Crunchy Things are the great, untold tragedy of the 90s local music scene.  If there was ever a group of musicians who deserved to get recognized, praised, and compensated for their ability and energy, it is them.  They were insanely popular locally for a while, and made some major advances like appearances of some TV shows and whatnot, sold a ton of albums, but they never launched big time.  It is unfortunate.  Even now, years after they "broke up", their reunion shows (two per year or so) pack venues to capacity.

I was complimented on my dancing by several people and the lead singer of LBCT, Noah, complimented me on my "popping & locking."  I received some free beer.  I saw some friends I haven't seen in a year or more.  All in all, it was a good night.  Now I will sleep for hours and hours and hours.  Zzzzzzz.