I’m the Euphoric frickin’ Llama.

Sooooooo… it was my sister Karishma’s 16th birthday yesterday (if you say today is Friday, which it’s technically not, but shut up). To celebrate, we went out for a pretty good meal at a South Indian restaurant… meh. She’s also going out tomorrow with her friends to walk around London and get bored when she realises that there’s actually nothing to do. I also bought her a Bloc Party t-shirt, which I’m personally not a fan of, but meh - she wanted one.

But but but. More importantly than all that, we also went and saw Stomp. Now, for those of you that haven’t seen Stomp, there’s a post on my music tumblelog, Noise and Ruckus. Those of you that have will understand just how unbelievably epic the entire show is, and how much I loved seeing it again. Sense of rhythm is one thing, but the ability to create a performance out of whatever you have to hand at that level is pure genius.

Those of you that still haven’t watched that video, you’re idiots. Go now, and redeem yourselves.

Want to see spring in Kent? This photo was taken this morning:

That’s today, as in the sixth of April, 2008 A.D. Whatever happened to global warming, people?

I went to see Jonathan Coulton (yes, that Jonathan Coulton) perform in London a few weeks back. He was as amazing as you think (Andy has the full details) - go see him, like, now.

No, not right now, jackass. Read the rest of this post first.

Anyway, his last song was entitled First of May, and I hadn’t heard it before. It’s an absolute genius song about spring coming around (NSFW though - careful) and I loved every minute of it. One thing grated on me though: first of May? What the hell, man? Spring starts in March, I swear.

Lies, apparently. See above for proof. JoCo was right and is my new God. All hail.

So tell me, venerable JoCo, how exactly can I convince Al Gore to shut the hell up? I want some damn sunshine, and if that comes at the expense of the planet’s ecosystem, so be it.