Airports, London, Buffalo

Due to some potential terrorist plot to kill us all, we were trapped for a total of twelve hours in Los Angeles International Airport. This wouldn't have been a problem--they do have bars in the airport, after all--but we were forbidden to bring any lotion into the terminal. You see, the terrorists intended to take our lotions, those scented salves of freedom and prosperity, and use them against us to sinister ends. As much of the Blood Arm's killing-time-in-the-airport-rituals involve the application and spreading and massaging of sweet-smelling creams over one another's bodies, well, those twelve hours were painfully dry. Terrorists be damned, we flew out regardless.

Now we are in London, finally. It is sunny, except when it's cold and raining. The piano-and-vocal-only show at the Pelican last night went swimmingly, especially for Zebastian and Zachary, who were able to just hang out and soak in the groupies for once. (I kid. All groupies were totally focused on Dyan for the duration of the evening.) There's talk of doing this sort of thing again. Frequently, even. So keep checking the shows section.

We are Buffalo Bar-ing tonight, which I like the sound of, if only because it reminds me of Thin Lizzy's 'Cowboy Song.' Could it be the greatest song that mentions a Buffalo ever?

Yes. Yes it could.


See you tonight!

xxxooo,

Ben Lee

Oh yes, please forgive the mess on this page, and rest assured it is only temporary. We're working out all the kinks as you read this!