HMM. I still can't find the words to the frickin' marlborough street blues. Not even on Marlborough Street. Or Sesame Street. It's a tragedy, I am telling you. Since I opened my big trap and said "Oh you can find ANY song on the internet," I may have to put them on the internet my own self.

I hope the library has a copy (I still don't know! they're still on their "let's close down for a week in the summer because it beats laying off a bunch of staff because our funding still sucks and it's sad sad sad" thing, and this year their online catalogue is down for it because they were in the middle of converting over to a new one.) Because if the internet is any indication, it may be rough finding this album in the local record shops, never mind that Ian Tyson is a total Vancouver rock star. The big record shops don't give a crap about vancouver bands, and the indie shops don't give a crap about cowboy singers. And they might have the relatively new vanguard "best of" kerlection, but that doesn't have the m.st. blues. (Ha, ha, listen to me. I am now a big-mouth ian and sylvia expert, after hearing exactly 30 seconds of one of their songs, once. I'm such a dork. But I mean well and I don't drool.. much.) Well anyway. The library usually DOES give a crap about vancouver music, or anyway the kind of vancouver music that 40 and 50somethings might have heard on the cbc.

Man, I should buy copies of all my favourite vancouver indie rock and punk and donate them to the library. That would be awesome. I totally need to save up some money to start them a Ms. Yam Local Rockstar Library Endowment Fund. I may yet live to use the phrases "punk rock" and "tax deductible" in the same sentence. Hee hee.

Diaryland come by here, she were 22 boxcars long! That line is becoming like the prefix "katima" was in katimavik - you can adapt it for any purpose! In katimavik we had the inevitable katimavan, we wore our katimashoes, we called the silverfish in our quasi-condemned ex-mental-institution apartment complex the katimapets. Well now I have a lot of items in my life that are 22 boxcars long. The skytrain this morning for instance, (you know, the one that come by here?) was 22 boxcars long. Also, my coffee happened to come by here and it was 22 boxcars long. Or else a freight train was in my apartment and it was 22 coffees long. Anyway. It gets worse; for a while last night I had Lost Highway stuck in my head, and hank williams was "..just a lad, only 22 (boxcars long.) Neither good n'r baaad... just a freight train like youuuuu..." It is a sad, sad state of affairs my friends.

Lumps of keen's hot mustard powder are really gross. Take my advice, or you'll rue the day you started rolling down that mustard highway. Doo dee doo dee doo doo.

I have the tunes to "bang the drum slowly" (or whatever that song is actually called) and "streets of laredo" mixed up in my head now. Wah. They're a pair like the main theme in "peter and the wolf" and the smurf tv show theme song - you can only remember them separately, never together. See, try it. You hum peter and the wolf just fine, then you hum the smurf song, then try peter and the wolf again. What is it? Augh! No it's turned in to something from swan lake! The smurfs have erased it from your mind! Don't worry, later on it will come back, and its revenge will be that you remember the smurf song wrong. Which isn't all that bad, really, that is one annoying song.

La, la, lala lala, la lala la la.

Ohh.. my head is like boiling over with annoying songs today. And I heard the crash on the highway, but I didn't hear anyone pray. You know how it is.