C'mon Wendy, tramps like us, baby we were born to run

Short post tonight. I'm tired, busy, confused, and chock full of processed fats.
I suppose now is as good a time as any to confess that I often come up with partial blog ideas a few days in advance and then compile and post them at regular intervals so as to create the illusion of consistent content. hah.

This is why the follwing observation might seem oddly timed, being related to my assertion a couple posts ago about driving music: I've been exercising a little bit lately, and it seems to me that bands whose names begin with F make really good running music. So far I've had good luck with Franz Ferdinand, the Futureheads, and Fugazi. Next up in my queue is the Flaming Lips, who I suspect may be the counterexample that topples what is otherwise a totally robust and well-motivated scientific theory.

Lucy provided this link to recipes involving beer. Something tells me that there are those of you out there who might be interested in such things.

Nissan has apparently developed industrial-grade nano paste (from we make money not art). Keep an eye out for their 2006 T1000s.