In the greatest non-sequitur of our time, the scruffy-bloggy New York musician Ryan Adams writes in his best friend, his daily blog: "My hair looked like this until the dye really set and now it's fucking weird electric blue. But still, I love women, I love the shape of their bodies, and I love how they talk and how they are able to separate sentimentality from being in the now..."

"Women are born spirit warriors and if men were smart they would shut the fuck up and listen and take notes."

I know, right? Yet I'm the one taking notes, somehow. What kind of fucked up shit is that? (Ryan, call me.)