If this is Friday, it's bad hair day.

Yikers.

Sometimes it pays to pay attention to what's going on on top of one's head before one posts a photo. Nevertheless, this bad indie-rock bedhead probably goes along with the western Washington state-style weather we're getting. After a day running around trying to get work, in the rain, it's kinda nice to kick back in a midtown coffee joint, even if they're playing the worst poopola known to man -- it's a "seventies" channel on one of those satellite radio channels, which means bad Tony Macaulay pop hits, Bee Gees disco crud, Foreigner chestnuts and the occasional ZZ Top tune ("Tush," which is kinda the anthem of Buttrock Nation) that some mixed-up guy in a Black Sabbath hat was complaining about because it was too "white trash."

Perhaps I should go fix dinner for somebody or something. This joint is crawling with cops. Go figure.