For the last time, the frequency is 147 MHz!

Well, it's back to the books tomorrow. Actually, not so much books, but unbound, overpriced stacks of photocopied paper that bear no semblance to plot-driven prose whatsoever. But we go to school with the books we have, not the books we want. Any more questions?

Tomorrow also marks a special day. On January 4th, some decades ago, a certain man was born. In his youth, this man was well respected by his peers and teachers, who knew he held a special talent. He persevered and worked towards his goal, and this very day he is doing what he loves. Each day, he goes to work and with a honeyed voice, captivates a world of listeners.

This man's name is Michael Stipe and he plays in REM. (I lost you at the respect part, didn't I?)

Coincidentally I share his birthday. (And, for those who own the band's 1983 debut album "Murmur" and look in the liner notes, we also share an exact likeness. I'm not kidding, it's scary. And here's the proof:



But it does bode well should I ever go bald. That Mr. Stipe gives a good name to baldness.)