Email: chrismohney@gmail.com
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Thank you, two people who emailed and one person who IMed, who together constitute three-fifths of the readership of the Columbia Journalism Review: I am not Chris Mooney. If I ever say something like "Yes, dear reader: the Bloggers Guild of America may be on its way," I beg of you -- kill me.
This will be of INTENSE INTEREST to a narrow subset of people, and of no interest to anyone else. But here are three unreleased studio tracks from 1990s Southern pop-punk band the Sugar La La's, whom I idolized in my feckless youth (they once watched along with me as my car fell into a sinkhole).
Now of course these songs sound wildly different from the ecstatic experience of live La La, but them's the breaks of slavering over a long-busted band. Tracks courtesy Scottamus.
Leaving the Waverly Inn on a cold night, I ran into a paparazzo lurking outside the door, giant camera raised. Seeing me through his viewfinder, he lowered the camera and grunted out a disappointed, "uh ... oh," then stepped out of my way, averting his eyes in disdain. The two of us stood alone on the sidewalk, awkwardly, while I searched for a cab. No TMZ for me.