My last real night out (my cigarette-toting, yelling-out-loud self alongside beer-drinking friends) of 2002 was at the Bistro. Cookie was obviously her usually self - expertly disguising jamming challenges as an excuse to drink away from the spotlight (wait, could I get sued for what I just typed?). But she did her share of crooning, of course. I liked her (insert fave CIR song title here). The company I was with played a large part in making the gimmick a special one, and its thanks to Riz and Ivs for sharing a few hours of serious fun with me - away from computer screens and mice. They were also a great cover for their non-drinking (but very sexy) chauffer, who would have chosen not to be caught dead at a bar just having a few smokes after having just devoured a very dead grilled pig in the dark.

Funny. I used to go to Pinwheel gigs all by myself. I didn't care what others thought of me then. I wonder what's happened to alter all that. When one gets older with age, does it mean you're wiser or does it just mean you've mutated into a replica of Courage?

Hey, Riz. Reminded of the picture that Bistro waiter took of us three. I wish I could post it here. Maybe if I finally get my very own domain (cross fingers)...