Comets & Cats Eyes

I love listening to music and am incapable of making any at all.  

In my wild and wanton youth, I was often forced to concede on many a brew-infested night at Mosco's or Old Queens Tavern in New Brunswick, New Jersey, that just because I couldn't sing never meant I wouldn't sing. Be grateful you were not there.

I collect all forms of pre-recorded music as the post-recorded kind is a bit too pricy for my wallet. I have thousands and thousands of albums and compact discs neatly (more or less) arranged alphabetically by artist and chronologically by release date on shelves that line every wall of a room in our house. My only complaint is that the room is too small. 

I've listened to every one of them many, many times. 

All will be revealed shortly.

Even the ones I bought in error or (many years ago) in a chemically altered state. I think, aside from crunk (and I'm not sure I can define that), I don't actively dislike any kind of music (though Rastafarian country and western doesn't get much of a listen in my house), but I do have a new flavor of the month if you will. 

You can thank me later and just enjoy it for now.
-bill kenny