Judgement Day

There are times I suspect that I am a profoundly unserious person.

My friend Geochick is a very Concerned Person and has no trouble being exceptionally serious. She's always sending me links to various serious things through our Facebook connection. So when she sent me this link I knew she was being Serious.

But the title of the link on the Facebook page didn't come up as "Nuclear Weapons on a Highway Near You" (the title of the Mother Jones article).

It came up as "Nuclear Truckers: Warheads on 18 Wheels".

And instead of being Concerned.

Or Serious.

All I could think of was; what a totally fucking awesome name for a band, and their first single.

I mean, I could effing see the headline in Billboard: NUCLEAR TRUCKERS EXPLODE THE CHART WITH "WARHEADS ON 18 WHEELS!"

"They don't look like major rock stars, but the four dudes out of Clackamas County, Oregon who go by "Nuclear Truckers" are serious about their music. And they've gone Ground Zero with their first release, an explosion of three-chord power rock they titled "Warheads on Eighteen Wheels". Although the guys still think of themselves as one step up from a garage band, Rolling Stone sees them in the arena already; "These guys are more than hot - they're a blast wave, they're #!@#!%! thermonuclear," says Chip Burton, executive for Manhattan, the label that signed the Truckers..."

I know, I know...it's a real story and it's no joke. I should be Concerned. I should be Serious.

But I just can't stop fucking giggling.

There are times when I wonder whether I'm really a grown-up, and there are other times when I suspect that the answer to that question would discourage me. Don't tell me fart jokes, either. I'll probably laugh at them. Damn.