Seven loads.

Doing laundry, it comes down to seven loads and I have a little more I should do but decided against doing. Enough Queens of the Stone Age for now [it's a wonder that those guns don't point at you], I'm back on Death From Above 1979 [oh, I'm so sick of you]. I'm also an ass. I might be back down to Acetone and then Goran Bregovic by the end of the week. Then, perhaps, Doktor Kosmos, Mr Quintron...

But before then, I'll be staring at my icons. I realize I need one of St. John the Wonderworker of Shanghai and San Francisco. His incorrupt relics are in a cathedral on Geary Street for those who bum around the Bay Area. If you get the chance, venerate them, he was one of the great saints of the 20th century.

I also need one of St. John of Chicago, the First Priest-Martyr under the Bolshevik Yoke, but it is less urgent.