Being Of The Harried and Idiotic Persuasion, I Keep Forgetting To Do This

So, I got a great and most welcome surprise when the inestimable Mal Thursday of The Malarians, the guy who tripped at th' Bottom Line and spilled Wilford Brimley's Chilean Seabass, dropped in and said hello on said posting.

And the great thing is, being the consummate understander of theatre that he is, he didn't break character one bit. This great champion of sweaty teenage fuzztone rock is currently residing in th' withering and feverish tropics of Florida and you by all means should check this fuckin' shit out right here. Scroll down to th' "Florida Rocks Again" podcast. All of you. Now. Further down there are installments #5 and #4 which I am off to after I do this here.

Woah! Did you check that? I'm STILL tripping. Fucking awesome. The Painted Faces, eh? How about that "I Think I'm Going Mad"? It's ALL FUCKING THERE. Liquid, arriving fuzztone, references to "time" and "the mind" pronounced "taam" and "maand", a groove that can only be described as early rolling stones ska.

Me, I'll be tuning into this forever.

Thanks, Mal. It does my heart profound good whenever I hear someone from The Mysts Of Tyme is still kicking this much ass.

And yes, I do realize now that if The Malarians had stuck it out two more years we would have been a household name. We was just ahead of our TAAM. I ran into people on th' west coast who couldn't BELIEVE I was in th' legendary Malarians all the god damn time.

Oh, I'm getting mysty.

I've heard rumblings of a reunion...I am so fucking in.

I will tell some Malarians stories next week. There are some wonderful ones, like what Mal said to Debbie Gibson's manager's assistant to get him to stop bugging us. Hee hee.