Greetings from the K-Hole
Today is one of those days where everyone is about gone. The wackiness of the barely clinging, and all that.

I've locked myself in my fishbowl with my K-hole music for the duration of my lunch. If anyone wants my K-hole music and happens to have a Pandora, drop me your email address. I'll share. It's been a little mellow today. I say it's on account of the snow, 'cos it's been doing that today. Maybe it's the fact that I call it "K-hole music." I dunno.

Shub's got a Pandora, and his kind of like mine, in that you kind of have to be Shub or Ernie to appreciate Shub or Ernie's stations. I've got a female singer/songwriter station, a folk singer station, K-hole music, British Invasion, a swirly 70's sound station, and a celebration of late 50's rock. Shub's got things like Swedish Folk Rage and Eastern Gothic Instrumental Jams. No, really. He listens to stuff like that. He knows music that I've never heard of- like he'll come to my house wearing a t-shirt that says "PF," and I'll say "What's PF?" He'll say, "A band. They sang 'o.'"

That was a dramatisation. But really, he does know bands that no one outside of the band members' mothers know. Like Porkwind. Apparently everyone knows Porkwind, and they performed at illegal festivals at Stonehenge back in The Day. To compensate for my unhippitiness, I've begged him for a Porkwind compilation. It'll help me become more rounded. And hopefully, one day, I'll stop calling the band "Porkwind," because the real band name is "Hawkwind."

Next, we'll work on my understanding of CC Penis-Stone. I could be cool someday. Not with my K-hole music, but someday.