alice's. diary.

My Dearest Constituents:

I think it's safe to say that the gang and I are on quite a high after what proved to be a most successful outing at NYU's own Think Coffee, a charming lower-east side nook with students and space to spare. Contrary to what you may have heard, I did in fact make it to the venue; I simply was a bit earlier (read: four hours) than usual. Well, after sampling both their delightful selection of coffees (two of each), and their seductive selection of wines by the glass (only one of each, of course), I found myself with a mysterious desire to (a) hug everyone I saw on the street, (b) convince them of the fact that Harrison Bergeron is, in fact, a complex metaphorical re-telling of the Trojan War, and (c) lie down immediately. I woke up the following Tuesday in Bangladesh. Again.

My humblest apologies, of course. I hear the gang performed swimmingly.


But let me make it up to you. I'd like for you all to save me this coming October 31st, as I attempt to right not only the wrongs I've done you, but indeed, all wrongs everywhere. Ever. Join me, as I present to you:

an.epic.halloween.love.horror.saga.story.

That's right, my beloved friends, this coming Hallow'een night, I will present to you an experience like no other, with all new music, full-contact storytelling, and maybe even some special guests, perhaps Lon Cheney (not likely) or some close friends of the band (much more likely). With the help of my incredible band, I will bring you a spectacle the likes of which even alice. fans have not yet seen. There will be horror. There will be dancing. And try as I might, we'll probably still have to use the accordion.


Details are below. Take the red pill, people. Do it.


Yours in elastic.hybrid.chamber.pop.,

a.