Andrew J. Lederer

for writing under the influence of naught but my own character. Though I knew I wanted to spend time in a THC-free zone before freelance joke-writing and blogging today, I’ve been unable to resist the social allure of rum and diet colas and cheap French wine.

Therefore, under-the-influence (sort of), I blog ahead, legitimacy be damned:


Met up with a classmate from elementary school the other night. I hate those annoying ghosts from the past who pop up via the internet and forcibly insinuate “remember when?” into your life while you’re trying to take care of bidness. But this guy was great and he was in town to play guitar with a wild band that did a two hours show with four encores at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire.

I gotta admit, I enjoyed the unique connection you have with someone who was in your class when you were small. I felt related to things; to my own past in a way that’s not part of my normal sense of me.

By the way, my friend’s band drew the oldest crowd I’ve ever seen at a rock’n’roll show and they were singin’ and dancin’ and throwin’ em back like they were 16. I’m talking about a sea of bald heads, white hair and bagged out faces and these craggy codgers were rockin’.

It impressed me.

Made me love the English.

For a minute.

But then people once again wouldn’t get out of my way in the street. And I refused to move, walking smack into an obstructive woman.

Tried to teach these people that they gotta get out of the way or be rammed but after making contact, I didn’t feel like a teacher. Once again, I felt like an animal.

But it was nothing that a can of Welch’s Grape Soda from CyberCandy couldn’t cure.