OK, so I just moved into a new apartment. It's roughly twenty-five feet away from my old apartment (two floors down), and it's about one million times larger. I now have room in the basement to play catch with my dog, room outside on the parking pad to grill scallops, and room in the kitchen to finally keep a toaster oven and eat some goddam Pop Tarts. One thing I no longer have, however, is cable - money is now tighter, see. And since I no longer have cable, I now have one less cultural window. No more MTV Jams Channel, no more regular season NBA, and no more Daily Show. So it might be that I'll have a little bit less to talk about here. But hopefully not. And if I'm not saying as much, y'all can rest assured that I'm spending the time playing catch with my dog in the basement instead.

With my last night of cable, I watched the MTV Movie Awards. I probably should've gone out drinking instead. One observation: Brittany Murphy is way cracked out.

Thank God the finals aren't on cable, though. Are the Pistons really going to do it? Is Rasheed Wallace my new favorite basketball player? Yes! Yes!

Oh, and Baltimore peeps should maybe think about going to the Talking Head tonight, where Diplo of Hollertronix will be dropping the bomb on the weekly dance party. I haven't been to that dance party in a million years, but I might make it out tonight.