That feels better.
I have said this before but we really do live on top of an old volcano; if a volcano can be said to have a cake hole, our house is sitting on its tonsils, basically.
I think these are vesicular 'a'a formations but I'm probably wrong because I don't know shit about lava. These conglomerates live at the foot of the cliff over the road from our house and are being very slowly tongued to death by Sawyers Bay.
Oh well. There are worse ways to go.
Speaking of ancient history, we got round to watching Montage of Heck after deferring it for so long. I've talked about Cobain before, but whatever. MoH was good, a really seamless blend of live shit and animation, faithful to the times and impeccably sourced if hard to watch and a little too easy on Kurt.
What a honking piece of human bird lime Courtney Love was/is, poisoned and poisoning, mediocre in every respect except her appetite for attention which was, to give credit where it's due, pretty fucking awe-inspiring.
I have met a dozen Courtneys in my time- male, female, variously horrific in their fathomless entitlement and depraved modi. I've met some Kurts, too, those darkly shiny human wonders, so exceptional and so deeply fucked, at once violently infantile and hyper-evolved and just fucking impossible to deal with. People give him a pass because they either don't know or forget that no one can make them do a tiny sliver of any shit they're not inclined to.
His parents sucked, if that's news to anyone, and beyond what was revealed in MoH, too.
Give Montage of Heck a spin when you get a chance. It's probably a better prospect sans all that initial hype.