wow I really, really love that Pearl Jam song. It's been through several incarnations - I have three different live versions from the 2000 world tour in London, Lubljana in Slovenia, and I think Milan (although I'm not 100% sure of that) and two other live versions from the 2003 tour - New York show 2 and Boston 3 - and in all cases, each version slightly or largely different, the track is still an utter masterpiece. The lyrics changed between tours and I prefer the 2003 versions, frankly. It's a beautiful track and we should all rush out and buy loads of Pearl Jam's stellar material. In other news, sat on the highway for a good 90 minutes this morning in an utter piss-down/cloudburst and people driving like shit-heads. It wasn't pleasant. Looks like the sun is coming out, though :) Lastly, after having seeded the idea for getting my mate Wim relieved of his eyebrows, I get to face him tonight and see what he has to say... All I said to the guys who did it was "Hey, last time I saw someone pass out, we shaved his eyebrows off" and, really, that's all the encouragement they need. I stood back and watched the hijinks and hilarity ensue. It was fucking funny. Wim puked and puked and puked and dry-heaved and had water and puked some more and then eventually passed out, keeping us all entertained throughout; and then further in his sleep by being violated... ironically, something he predicted: "I must go home" he said, trying to stand up form the toilet and falling over. "You're too smashed. You're not going anywhere. Crash here for the night," I said. "No. Rene and Tony will take advantage of me." So I said "Take advantage how?" and he replied, completely lucid through the layers of metabolised Klippies (Klipdrift south african brandy), "they'll ass-fuck me." In a way, the poor lad was right. When I heard from him on saturday, through the miracle of mobile phone text-messaging, he didn't seem to know his eyebrows were missing and was suffering from the nasty effects of a Klippies hangover ("Head hurts. Stomach fucking sore") but thanked me for sitting with him while puked his little heart out. No mention of eyebrows - it was at 10am, after all, a mere 7 hours after proceedings, so perhaps he hadn't looked in the mirror yet... my karate class tonight, which he attends, should be a hoot. Claire says "hi!" laters Perhaps, actually, we should list the lyrics to the splendid track? On account of it being all magnificent and all... these are the 2003 tour lyrics Got a car A full tank of gas Let's get the hell out of here Get out of here fast We'll go the ocean where Where everyonoe wins I wanna go but I don't want to go alone I hope you get this message You're not at home I could've been there already fifteen minutes ago You don't have to pack your things We'll make it up as we go along I wanna go but I don't want to go alone With you I could never be alone