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 |   My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
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First there was "I'm Studying You"  ...then there was "Who Do I Think I Am??" . Finally, we reached "Who do I still think I am??" .Until now. Welcome to the Buffalo in your soul...       A THREE-TIME CHAMPION OF THE "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" !   |
  "Halloween Controversy - Many Christian churches encourage their congregations to boycott Halloween Celebrations. What is your opinion...is Halloween pure evil?"'Sup y'all? Some good prompts today, so I'm gonna get right into them while I'm still feeling like it. Besides, I've got stuff to do later on and I can't be spendin' all night on this.  Good christ. Before I get into my spiel, at least this prompt came with a background novella link: Halloween- Harmless Or Harmful Fun? . I applaud this move, PandaPaws Licensed VetTech  , and I'm apologizing right now if any of my opinions contained within this entry offend you.That's not to say I read the whole article...because I didn't. Did you see how long it was?? I mean, I know I put you guys through some serious endurance tests sometimes, but at least they're kinda sorta fun once in awhile. You know what's not fun? History. Or religion. Or the history of religion. I'm sure the person who wrote it is crazy passionate about the subject matter in the piece, and I commend the author for his or her thorough rendering on the topic (I say "his or her" because I tried to Google search Navida Sayed and not a damn thing came up that connected to a person  ...but a stupid cat meme only computer nerds will understand did come up  ). Instead of relying on an informed opinion, I'm just gonna hop in my shopping cart and ride this one down to the bottom of the hill with no brakes. Christian churches whipping their dicks out on matters like this, claiming it's a higher authority, are ruining all religions for everybody. They are why no one can have nice things. They are why parish populations are on the decline, and they're why notoriously Catholic cities like Buffalo and Boston have a closed church on every other block. Wars all throughout humanity have been created, in part, because Christianity isn't happy with itself until it has killed and devoured your non-Jesus-flavored soul. It focuses on all the can'ts and don'ts, instead of the dos and thys. So the good, honorable Reverend Joe Jimbob Twobyfour says you should give his church more money to build bigger pews, or God's gonna cancel Halloween...better yet, save Him the trouble and show Him how committed you are, and cancel it yourselves (but don't forget to write me that check )! Meanwhile, Little Susie Christian can't join her homies in their Trick-Or-Treat games because her folks said God said it was wrong...and then Little Susie Christian gets picked on by her friends because she can never have any fun, resents her parents the rest of her adolescence, and grows up to become Li'l Suzie Stripper, addicted to fast cars and faster meth (just a dramatization, people...no families or strippers were harmed in the genesis of this entry, I promise thee).Why do churches always need to lash out and protest and decry stuff? Where's the love and acceptance for all of humanity? Where's the fucking compassion?! Like, every other week some holy group is boycottin' somethin' or another. Does it show up on the flyers the ushers hand out after each mass? "Peace be with you, and here's your schedule for this week's upcoming outward displays of how much we hate everything not contained in our blessed four walls under the steeple. Praise Jebus!" It's...annoying. No, it's not even annoying anymore, because it's so much more seemingly commonplace now with the internet and all. It's tiresome. We get it. Your light is the one true light and way. And so is his. And hers. And that guy over there's. And that state's board of education, and your doctor's, and so on and so on. And if you deviate from their mission, you're the evil one. Not the slovenly biker guy with the beer belly and the "God H8s Fags" sign, or the priest molesting altar boys in the church basement, or the televangelist busted with hookers 'n blow while his wife's cashin' your tithe checks in for her third new nose this decade. Eat meat on a Friday and surely Satan himself will take you to Hell...but pay no attention to the man you confess your sins to . It's very hard to take this stuff seriously anymore when everything about it is contrived and shrouded in controversies that keep feasting upon itself. No. Halloween is not pure evil. Pure evil is what you get when you ask someone to define why exactly something so seemingly innocent shouldn't be considered as such, and getting a run-of-the-mill bible verse spat back at you ad nauseam because that's the way it's always been ya filthy sinner. Asking a simple question and feeling like you need a shower of vicar's sweat to cleanse your moral code for even thinking differently, or receiving an answer that's so winded and based in historical rhetoric from a time when...well, you get the point. It's not evil. Let your kids do it. It's normal now. There's nothing wrong with it. Kids are pretending to be their favorite cartoons and movie stars and shit...you're gonna get in an uproar about that, but not at politicians pretending to be civic leaders or bankers pretending to be God with our retirement funds or, gasp holy peoples pretending to be men/women of the word but hating on everyone who isn't just like them? Please. Get a grip. Get your priorities right. There are bigger things to worry about than the hows and whys of each specific religion's "most important day of the year" (and I'm sure if you Googled hard enough, you could come up with a Top Ten list of reasons why each one is sinful and rotten and rooted in the dark underworld hundreds of centuries ago). [Afterword: I once owned one of these Winston matchbooks , and for years it hung on a corkboard near my writing area at wherever I was...it sums up accurately how I feel about your thoughts on my religious preferences.] "Is there an image, a storyline, or a scene that keeps coming up and persisting in your writing? Do you know why? Do you put it there knowingly or does it show up on its own, unannounced?"Ya know, this thought only hits me whenever I decide to revisit past works. Like when I start anthologizing whole collections (which reminds me...I need to get back into that and at least finish up "Ribmeat Of The Family Tree" one of these days) for digital storage here at WDC. If there's ever been a recurring theme of any kind in my poetry, for the most part it's been coincidental. It's not like I've woken up every morning and decided that I'm gonna enter "Give It 100!" so I can bust out a slew of poems regarding heartbreak, sadness, a combination of the two, or banana sandwiches. And yeah, sometimes I'll get into little ruts (I guess you can call 'em that) where I might linger a little on a particular subject for awhile (especially if it's been weighing on my mind)...I think we're all guilty of that to some degree if we've taken to writing as a form of expression for any length of time. But me, personally? Whether I've succeeded in this or not, one thing I've always, always strove hard for is not repeating myself. In poetry, or in blog entries. If I like a certain band, but all their albums pretty much sound the same, as a listener I'll get bored quickly no matter how unique or easily identifiable (think Rage Against The Machine) it is. It seems impossible that this happens often in literature, being that there's all sortsa words and combinations of them possible, as opposed to what a guitar/bass/drum combo can create, but I'm sure it happens often enough even though I'm dry right now on specific examples. Look at it this way: would Shakespeare be Shakespeare if all he did was rewrite the same sonnets over and over, just swapping out words for their synonyms, or lines with whole antonyms in their places? No...he'd just be some dude who did some really creative, out-there shit at first, and when he ran out of styles to give birth to or words to make up, he'd just dip into his back catalog and bite his own rhymes. And when his fans caught on, he'd flame out and be flippin' burgers at the McDonald's on the Avon. That's how I see it. I don't wanna be "Remember Shakespeare?"...I wanna be seen as "Yo, can you believe what Shakespeare did next?". [Afterword: Yes, I'm well aware how ridiculous that last sentence sounds, in the time/space continuum of tenses. And in no way am I trying to confuse myself with or insinuate that I am or ever could be compared to William Shakespeare, the band Shakespeare's Sister , or your local Steak 'n Shake . Gotta stay humble, yo.]  "Do you enjoy being scared, such as watching horror movies or reading scary books? Share with us one that really got to you."Here's where I admit one of two things: I'm either pretty senseless and don't get that I'm supposed to be scared, or I really am some kind of heartless, emotionless savant whose sensitivity meter is broken beyond repair (I'm putting all my chips on the second choice, for what it's worth). Like, ok...a few weeks ago I read my first Stephen King novel, Joyland . I would've read it regardless of the author, because it caught my eye in the library and the blurb on the back seemed interesting enough...the fact that it's King and he's some kind of master of horror or whatever had less to do with this decision. The truth is that the genre as a whole just doesn't do much more me, and I understand that Joyland is more mystery/crime oriented than his, uhhhh, I dunno, scarier (if that's the right word) work, but I'm not gonna walk back his entire published output now because I dug his style in one paperback. But back to the prompt itself...no, I don't find being scared by a book or a film enjoyable, because I don't really see the "scary" point of the plot. Like, I really don't wanna come off sounding like some hard-ass tough guy because I'm not, but nothing along those lines scares me. I can't get around the fact that it's a story, or a movie. I know that it's not actually happening. I know I can stop whatever's coming along next by closing the book or pausing or stopping the film. Even biographies or "based on a true story" features...it's either in the past, or it's being reenacted. There's a separation. I'm not watching an actual murder, or reading about something bent on destruction as it's creeping up behind me while I'm sitting in bed holding a book. I'm not wired to respond that way, I guess. And that's not to say I lack imagination...oh, I've got imagination for days, y'all. Gotta trust me on that. I just don't know how else to explain it, nor do I feel it's something I really need to explain...it's how I am, I guess. Sure, snap a twig 30 yards behind me and I might jump, but I'm not fearin' for my life or anything, so why should someone else's description of it on a page or on the screen instill that true fear in me? It's not there. Maybe I was born without that capacity, or somethin'. [Afterword: I guess I should stop throwin' around phrases like "all the feels", because clearly I'm lacking possession of a couple. Damn.] ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** Cripes. Part of the reason I didn't start this entry earlier today is that I don't really have anymore songs on my proverbial list of tunes suitable for somethin' like "Resurrection Jukebox" . Can I suggest right now that next year we just do songs with...awww, snap, what was the idea I had about this earlier? I don't remember now. It was songs with...that...fuck. I knew I shoulda written it down when it hit me. Maybe it'll come back to me later. Who knows.  Anyway, enough stallin'. May as well just go with somethin' sorta easy, like The Beatles. Two dead guys there to choose from (John Lennon and George Harrison). I'll go with George here because I've probably linked more Lennon songs in this spot before, and the tie-ins today are so much better. Billy Preston was an occasional collaborator with The Beatles (he played a fierce organ on perhaps my favorite Beatles tune, "Don't Let Me Down"...and boo on YouTube for only having crappy ghetto ass bootleg versions available for it right now...fix your copyrighted shit, YouTube  ). And he covered George Harrison a couple times actually...including a soulful, almost gospel-sounding rendition of "All Things (Must) Pass" which was actually released before Harrison's version because it was rejected by The Beatles for inclusion on the Let It Be album, and "My Sweet Lord". [Afterword: Liking this song doesn't make me a hypocrite, does it? Even after my little episode in the first segment of this entry?   ]   Stuff like this is why the internet is the thriving cesspool I love so much...there's this dude who's been trolling people on Facebook, hilariously posing as a customer service rep who handles complaints and inquiries, and now he's riffin' on Batman and looking for work as a crimefighter by reaching out to police departments. If only there were more people like him, and less people hurting others under the shields of their religions, the world would be so much more tolerable. Some of you may remember the little bitchfest I had going regarding the local library when I first moved out to Cortland (see: "This one's about the limit. Part 1." and "This one's about the limit. Part 2." , for freshening up that hatred), but it's important to understand that it isn't always the people who work there that have drawn my ire. Sometimes, it's also the general public and all the different ways they conspire to piss me off as well. The whole filthy lot of ya. [Afterword: And no, I'm freakin' perfect  .] I'm a, well, ok, I aspire to be a simple person. I like uncomplications. But...I also like smart things. Well thought out humor that is also properly executed. I don't mind having to work a little for an internal giggle. That said, anyone who can combine a basic mathematical context with a good joke, supplied on what appears to be a handwritten Post-It note, deserves the share here in my long little blog's collection of miscellany (which also means I recommend it and maybe you should check it out): Hilarious and accurate pictures of life.  And finally, I'm gonna keep this short because Game One of the World Series is just about to start, which means I'm about to throw my feet up like I'm busy real quick...Rolling Stone magazine ran an oral history of "Let's Go Mets!" , a stadium anthem written in conjunction with the '86 Mets shreddin' the National League on the way to the pennant that year. Required pregamin' for any Mets fan...and if you're not a Mets fan like ♥Hooves♥  and myself, you're just gonna have to suck it up and bear with us for the next week and a half or so. #LGM [Afterword: Seriously, I'm not apologizing for my love of the Mets. If you can read everything else I've written, you can put up with a few sentences every now and again about the national pastime. And this is the first time in my entire 14+ years at WDC that I can actually say the Mets are in the World Series!!]Ok...that's all I have for today. Thanks for droppin' by; we'll be passin' around a hat down in the comments section because it's always better to give than to receive, and Jebus doesn't like greedy kids. Peace, Hare Krishna, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "Halloween Traditions - In my area, suburban Rochester, NY, the kids go out Trick Or Treating about 5:30 pm and are in by about 8:30. Kids over thirteen aren't usually out Trick Or Treating; on occasion you might get a group of teenagers but they are few and far between. Some adults have Halloween Parties but not many and not many people dress up in costumes at their jobs. What does Halloween Night look like in your area?"What's up everyone? Figured I'd stop by and say hi and see how the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" 5-Day mini-challenges have been so far...Wordsmitty ✍️  did a great job handling the prompts last week, so thanks for that, and this week we're being led by "Invalid Item" 's famous dancing waitress, PandaPaws Licensed VetTech . Panda and I go way, way back- to, like, the last year or so, and she's driven by the school I went to 5th and 6th grade before (we're both from Western New York, but she's just a little farther east down I-90 than my hometown). So give it up for my quasi-neighbor!  Anyway, I don't get too crazy about Halloween. It's just not a big deal to me (I can already feel that feeling like I've said this a lot recently, and I think I've written like six blog entries in the last two months). I believe this'll be my third Halloween living in Cortland, and I have no idea what they "look like". The building I live in doesn't get Trick-Or-Treaters, no one really decorates (I live in the "downtown" section, which is mostly storefronts and student housing), and I hardly ever leave the house after dark because I like to do all my errands and shit earlier in the day when I still have energy and ambition...if I have to share and navigate the sidewalks here with anyone else besides some of the lumpy, spastic non-children people who live here, I can only imagine what that's like on October 31st when it's also somewhat populated with demonic kids parading around half sugared up and totally drunk on the knowledge that they'll soon have more candy than they've ever seen in their lives. And even when I didn't live here, back in Buffalo I really didn't want to make a big deal outta it. If I knew I'd be home, I'd buy a bag of candy and leave my outside light on in case anyone came. And I know it sounds so cliche, but I could do that and maybe get one or two kids at the most...but on the years I'd opt out of supporting pre-diabetic brats completely, the whole damn neighborhood would show up looking for a handout. And it ain't like I lived right on the curb; naw man, the entrance to my apartment at 542 was all the way up the driveway, in the back of the house, and my front windows were the bedrooms, which were dark. Like, what were these kids smellin' that made them think I had the goods that year? The only seasonal crap hangin' on my windows was the plastic wrap we'd put up to keep the cold air from seepin' through the cracks in the older houses' frames so the heating bills would be lower. No pumpkins, no decorations, nothin'. I couldn't be bothered, especially if it was just for my benefit. Besides, most years I was too busy working anyway, and something like four or five outta every seven Halloweens fall on a day not conducive to throwing a good party (and by "good party" what I'm really saying is that I'm an often irresponsible adult when it comes to parties of all kinds). When you work in a retail establishment that sells seasonal shit like decorations and candy, the actual days these products are meant for can get busy...last-minute shoppers willing to settle on maybe getting their house toiled papered because they waited and ended up with the shitty candy no one else wants to give out, or the single mom that went tanning too many times and forgot about her kid's costume and he/she needs to be Spongebob/Elsa/whatever-else-every-kid-is-being, or the crotchety old lady who can't wait for all the holiday everythings to get marked down to 25% off tomorrow and insists on the lame table centerpiece being discounted 90% because "the holiday's over with anyway and what're you gonna do with it?". God I fucking hate retail and the people it attracts. So nope, I don't have a good idea of what the night looks like, other than it's pretty much like every other night for me. And I'm not even sad about it. I look at it as less work and less cleanup than what everyone else is doing, and that's less hassle and more chillin'. As long as you're not actually killing anyone and calling it a decoration , then whatever knocks your socks off, I guess. Just don't bother me with any of it.   "What is your favorite insect? Why is it your favorite?"Nope. None of 'em. No thank you. I thought about skipping this prompt entirely, because of my preferences and the fact that the entry I'd envisioned this becoming would be long enough as it is, but I just can't seem to let it go and now I'm gonna spew all sortsa misguided rambling that I have no good intention of doing anything useful with. And please, no one get all science-y and practical on me, like "Insects are important to the ecosphere of the world's food chain systemization of the universe" or some other feel-good, smart sounding, lower-your-glasses-at-me bullshit. I don't have time for you know-it-alls to be right; I have an entry to finish at some point this month. I hate bugs. All of 'em. Go through any kind of infestation, and you'll know what I'm sayin'. Realizing these little damn near microscopic beings are all up in your bizness and something needs to be done swiftly and dramatically is very similar to the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance). First you're like "no, that's not a pile of ants walking off with the contents of my canned goods cabinet". Then you're pissed because "those fuckers really are walking off with my canned goods cabinet!" Then you're all like "well, as long as they stay outta my bed and my Triscuits, and they stay in that one spot by the lollipop stick stuck to the back of the garbage can, it's cool"...until you go to brush your teeth after a long, hard day and collapse into a complete crying jag because there's a whole extended family of them marching two by two, hurrah, from your medicine cabinet to your closet all the way on the other side of the house. But then you realize in that closet is the vacuum cleaner, and at least you can put one of those funky attachments that no one knows what they're used for on the end of the hose so you can suck up as many of those bastards as you can before the hardware store opens and you can buy those ant colony trap things. And it's cheaper to just burn down the vacuum cleaner and buy a new one when all is said and done than it is burning down an entire house. The only thing I find to be nearly as pestering as an infestation are people who actually fear insects. Like, the people who make a god damn big deal about spiders and shit. And you know at least five people who are all in some sorta weird club together where they sit in a circle, rocking back and forth, explaining in sentence fragments how the spiders are trying to kill them. I'm not talkin' about everyone who turns into Bruce Lee when they're walking through a forest and suddenly thinks they've stepped through a cobweb that might've touched their face...I mean full-blown adults who can't fucking function for a full hour once they think they've seen anything with three or more legs that is at least one-one millionth of their own mass. Really?? "Ohhhhh, but they have eight legs!", like they're suddenly afraid they're gonna lose some kind of important gold medal race to an arachnid. If you people wanna bitch and complain about how entitled people are and how kids these days just can't cope with being told no or whatever, I guess you better start lookin' at all the role models around them who lose their minds when they see a spider and resort to being terrified and crippled by it over acting sensibly. Makes me wanna roll up a newspaper and smack them first, before trying to kill any kind of bug. But infestations man...they're the worst. You can have an exterminator come in and spray every crack and crevasse in your place twice a week for three years, and still six months later anytime you see something you think movin' outta the corner of your eye, you're ready to don a gas mask and double-fist cans of Raid like you're some kinda ant ninja terrorist vigilante. It's like having flashbacks or somethin'...it just stays with you, man. They may be outta your life, but they've moved into your soul. And no one deserves to live life like that.  "Willful Blindness: The concept of 'willful blindness' comes from the legislature passed in the 19th century -that you’re responsible for the damage to you or to someone else, 'if you could have known and should have known, something [that] instead you strove not to see.' What are your thoughts on this or has willful blindness ever taken you under its power?"So, without looking this up or anything, you mean like negligence? Ok, now I have to look that up, because I've said it over in my head so many times now that I'm second-guessing its meaning. Google tells me that it means "failure to use reasonable care, resulting in damage or injury to another". Urban Dictionary doesn't have a definition for "negligence", but it has one for "négligent", which is impractical here for our purposes. So negligence, based on my loose interpretation of things, is the end result of willful blindness? Or is it the other way around? I think I've thought about this too much now at this point, because while it seems like one leads to the other, I can't quite put them in order now. Must be getting close to my bedtime . All I know is that I'm usually on the negligent side of the equation. So, because I know that, does that make me...  . Law's a funny thing, because, for example, you can be given a speeding ticket if you're not speeding but you're close to speeding and the weather's shitty. Like, getting clocked by radar doing 27 MPH in a 30 zone will get you charged with a little something the cops like to call "Negligent Driving" (which is different than driving in sexy underwear). I got me one of them tickets once, but I was doing 37 in a 35 during a heavy snowfall. And I knew I was doing 37, because I looked down at the speedometer as soon as I saw the cherries behind me, and it was solid between the "35" and "40", and the cop even said he got me at 37. Whatever, no big deal, I'll sit through traffic court, pay the fine, it's all good. Until I got home and actually read the ticket...sumbitch typed up "47" instead of "37", and lemme tell ya, 47 MPH on balding tires is not easy to accomplish, especially during a snowstorm. And I'm not stupid enough to call the police department just to be like "Hi, I got pulled over today, but I think your guy made a mistake...".  No, I did the American thing...I forgot all about it. After court they give you a few weeks to pay the fine...a set amount, I guess to discourage arguing nuances like speed and weather. And, well, my money was better utilized in other manners. So the deadline came and went and nothing happened, until the next time I got pulled over (ironically, again, for driving 37 MPH somewhere I shouldn't have been)...because this time, there was no "Here's your ticket, now have a nice day sir". I was arrested on the spot for driving without a license. The car was searched and impounded, I was ticketed for everything they could legally get away with, and I got a ride to the police station with my hands cuffed behind my back (which is one of the most uncomfortable positions in the world). And bosses aren't too pleased when you call them to say you can't come in to work because you're in jail. There's so many more angles to this story that I'm leaving out, mainly because I've told it a couple times before, but the point is this: my own willful blindness had some consequences, and one of them just happened to be me sitting home and having a few beers at 6:30pm-ish rather than the 10:30pm it would've been had I actually made it to work proper. Also, all charges were dismissed upon payment of the original fine, so yeah, that'll learn me, Depew Police Department.  ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** Day # I am so far behind in the "Resurrection Jukebox" this year...I think I'm submitting this only because I'm in complete denial that I'm not gonna catch up. Oh, foolish boy that I am sometimes...like I'm really gonna rip off a fat chunk of entries between now and the time the plug gets pulled on the Rez Juke. I can't even write when I swear to myself all day I'm gonna feel like it if I can only just start t.y.p..i..n...g.Anyway, I'm going with this cover of Blondie's "Heart Of Glass" by The Toadies (you remember them...they had that song about vampires in the nineties, "Possum Kingdom" . And I only thought about it the other day when Charlie ~ had mentioned Blondie in someone else's entry, and I was like "wait, he likes The Toadies", and some site I follow on Facebook had posted this a few weeks before, so I shot him a quick IM and Charlie was like "yay!  " and we both ended our nights a few places better than they were before then. Oh yeah, and the dead people...both bands have gone through a bunch of lineup changes and stops/restarts, but technically only the original drummer for Blondie (Billy O'Connor, stroke complications in 2015) has passed away. However, legendary singer/songwriter Elliott Smith did play piano on the title track of a later Toadies album, and he died in 2003 from a questionable stabbing. One thing that is certain though...Charlie and I both agreed that The Toadies took a very sexy song did their own different thing to it in their style, and it's still crazy sexy. I probably hear this in my head now 2-3 times a week, and it's often the best time of my week (but I live a sad and sometimes lonely life).  Ugh...I know y'all don't need me to tell you this, but social media is outta control. Yesterday was supposed to sorta be a big deal in the National Football League. My Buffalo Bills played a game in London, England against the equally pathetic Jacksonville Jaguars, and Yahoo streamed it for free all over the world...the first time a regular season game has (legally) been shown that way other than through the league's incredibly overpriced Season Pass or whatever they're calling the act of sucking of too many of your dollars outta your wallet. And since neither team is among the game's elite, it was a terrible example of football. For the second week in a row (due to injury), the Bills started their backup QB...once their starter, once their "franchise savior", and now a guy lucky to have a job after his second quarter meltdown yesterday when he had a bunch of turnovers and poor decisions. Bills fans, starved of successful offensive play for so long, ripped his ass on Twitter . Hatefully, inappropriately, rudely, all of it. And here's what I don't understand...how dumb are people? It's not like he's in the huddle, going "Oh shit, @billsfanyomama6969 just tweeted that he wants to cut my nuts off for throwing that last pick-6!". Naw man, c'mon. You know he ain't readin' that stuff anyway, and it's very likely he's got someone managing his account so that even if he did want to read your nonsense, all the negative haterade would've been deleted by the time he got out of the shower. So why bother? Why prove to the world you're a bigoted bully? It makes you look stupid. Like, I kinda get it, because I'm a fan and I get excited on gameday just as much as the next person. I'm on Twitter all game long, making dumb ass jokes and complaining and mocking the other team, but I'm not dropping the N-word, or threatening to destroy someone's house or anything like that. There's a line, and this is the one instance where I'm pretty good about not crossing it.  See? The only person I'm really picking on is me. I still remember the Atari football game. It was terrible...it was like 3-on-3, and you could only pass, and sometimes a fourth guy just appeared outta nowhere for your team. I'm also kinda old, and the Madden franchise by EA Sports (the gold standard for all football video games) is far too complex for my liking.  “I own this bed. I pay taxes for this bed.” Except for that time when you don't . I don't even know what to say about this...I mean, I've said and done some really messed up shit when I probably should've been passed out, and I've passed out in a few strange places, and maybe a few times even beside a strange person or four, but I don't think I've ever stumbled into someone's house thinking I still lived there and then tried to sleep there. Well, except for the crazy ex-girlfriend's apartment, but we might've still been dating and maybe if she wasn't such a batshit crazyperson, it would've been alright, had it also not been our anniversary.   Know what today was? The day the "Invalid Item" came out, of course! The September winners of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" are in there, and there are some interesting new bloggers in there (I know this, because I run the enormous fact-checking department machine once in awhile). Check that out, and then go to the "Blogging Bliss Newsletter Forum" and tell Wordsmitty ✍️ you're there for the free pizza giveaway. He'll know what you mean . And finally...look, we're all familiar with a phenomenon called "The Christmas Creep". It's that thing where all the Xmas shit starts showing up in stores earlier and earlier each year. Google it and I'm pretty sure that's what comes up (seriously, do it, because I know that's what it's called but I don't feel like providing an example of it). Like, when the fake trees start showing up in the back aisles of Walmart in June. That's just wrong. You know it, I know it, your neighbor who gets pissed because he thinks he's being persecuted when someone says "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" knows it...but Corporate America and Big Christmas seem to still think there's nothing wrong with this. They also think that we still appreciate them glittering the fuck outta everything jolly and bright, which couldn't be further from the truth. Like today, I was in CVS after lunch checking my blood pressure and getting a bottle of strawberry-flavored sparkling water like I usually do, and the manager was setting up some Christmas displays. One of them was a little table decoration of Charlie Brown and Snoopy and Linus and their busted-ass tree, and because I'm a giant child who can't keep his hands to himself in stores, I touched the button on it that was surrounded by the little sticker that read "Try Me!". It was cute; the tree spun and the Charlie Brown theme song played...and then I realized that this thing was coated in a fine dust of glitter. Fucking glitter. Just a little brushing of my index finger for a split second against this venus flytrap toy of deceit and bling. I'll be washing my hands every half hour until Easter, and I will still see it. And I should know better, having spent way too much time setting holiday aisles in drug stores and cleaning up after similar idiots who couldn't keep their hands to themselves for so long.  Alright you guys, I think I've just about had it with you, this, and today. I'm gonna post this in the necessary places, maybe watch the rest of Monday Night Football, wonder why no one has commented on it before I've gone to bed (duh, it's 3.24 miles long), actually go to bed, and then see that I've gotten a comment but will be sedated just enough to not be able to respond to it, and I'll have probably forgotten about it until tomorrow afternoon. That's what typically happens when I wait all day to start writing an entry, in case you were wondering (and don't be shy, it's ok if you were). Better enjoy this now, because who knows when my next entry will appear (start a pool if you have to, but I'm not betting on me). Peace, seemed like the real thing, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "Let's start with something easy to get you in the mood of escaping. Tell us how you escape distractions to be able to write. Explain the most annoying ones and the schemes you use. If this is too easy, maybe you can relate it creatively like this poem, "My Writing Place" ."What's up, friends? This week in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" 's 5-Day Mini Challenge, Wordsmitty ✍️ is bringing his considerable talent to the head of the class with prompts relating to the topic of Escape. I'm sure most of you are familiar with him, because you all subscribe to the monthly Blogging Bliss newsletter that he publishes without fail the last Monday of every month, right? And if you're not, I'll give you a minute now to sign up here: "Blogging Bliss NL Subscription Request" (word on the street is that one of his editors is quite the dapper gentleman, and one of the other ones has a Blog Monkey...so, like, win-win).Anyway, now for the real reason you're here. I suppose I better get a move on because I can almost feel quite a ramble comin' on, and it's already later in the evening than I care for it to be when I start doing this kinda stuff. I'm gonna start by attacking this prompt at the basic level (something we were sorta advised against shortly after it was sent out, as per "Helpful Explanation for Escaping this Week" ). I'm an escape artist in just about every sense of the word...when I want to be. If I want to write an entry on any given day, but the prompts aren't suited toward whatever my particular skill-set feels like, then I say so. It's not something I do much anymore these days (I prefer to call it "unmotivated"), but sure, I could weasel my way out of writing to a specific prompt the same way an attractive, well-embreasted (add that word to my dictionary of made-up terms  ) woman uses her boobs to get out of a speeding ticket. And by now most of you have probably figured out that that last paragraph has almost no relevance to the actual prompt, and is pretty much a 180-degree turn from it. The rest of you are subliminally distracted by boobs, because I'm in possession of a teenage brain in an old man's body. And if I were to complete the chicanery here, I'd sneak out the back door into the next prompt without so much as a kiss goodnight...but I won't be that guy. Not tonight, at least. The truth is, I'm a combination of "gets distracted easily" and "lacks proper motivation". Sometimes, I have a hard time concentrating on what's in front of me...because I don't always just see what's in front of me. There's always other things that seem to think they want to be thought at the same time, which means nothing really ever gets my full attention. And when that's combined with putting everything off until the last possible minute, well then, that's just askin' for a righteous clusterfuck more times than not. That's why my blog entries are a mile and a half longer (the approximate length of a CVS receipt), take me forever to write, and also why I make notes about them before and during their creation. By the time I have an idea of what I'm comfortable saying and have the will to commit to typing it out, I've thought of at least six different things and turns of phrases and in which order they should go, and then I wind up starting off with shit like "I suppose I better get a move on because I can almost feel quite a ramble comin' on, and it's already later in the evening than I care for it to be when I start doing this kinda stuff.", so I just turn the spigot on and try not to stop too much along the way. It's probably the worst way to go about this whole exercise of blogging, but it works for me (and by "work" I mean if I didn't do it that way, I'd answer each fucking prompt with one concise sentence just to get them over with...and if you know me you know that I can't do that and I hate when other people do that). So the biggest problem in the whole process is myself, and the fact that I even make it a process. I find that badgering and shaming myself into writing is sometimes beneficial as well, because I'm a nice guy and I'm good at making myself feel guilty. "You say you love writing and you support blogging, but you never do it! What's your problem, man?" I swear, I'm only an asshole to myself, but I'm not that bad of one. I'm a minor one. Ah, crap, ok, I'm an asshole to people who irritate me and come off as being stupid, but deep down who isn't, and yes I tell myself that to make myself feel better when I catch myself acting that way (and it's within twenty seconds to thirty minutes after I've opened and shut my mouth that I realize it).  I wish I had a better answer for the rest of the prompt, other than shrugging and bein' all like "I dunno...I just do it." Because that's how it goes, I swear. Like a parent who doesn't really have a choice in some situations other than parenting, if your kid's sick or doing whatever kids do that need parental guidance. Escape comes from being proactive in avoiding distractions. Knowing when to stop scrolling and close Facebook. Recognizing that the day that turned into night isn't gonna last forever, and deadlines come up faster as the hours fall off the clock, or get added on, or whatever they do...as you can see, I also haven't learned time management yet either. And avoiding interruptions. I think my ex secretly hated my blogging more than any woman I dated hated all of my previous girlfriends combined, because once I get going I don't like to stop or even be spoken to. She could sit in a room full of silence with me for six hours, and five minutes into writing an entry all of the sudden she'd turn into a god damn game show host with the questions and the facts and shit. And because I can't think and answer her and type at the same time, I'd just look up at her with an unintentional death stare and complete disregard to what keys my fingers hit as long as they sent off the message that hey, I'm freakin' busy now, and she'd just be all passive-aggressively cool with that...but when I wasn't around you know she was threatening it like my blog was gonna try to take me to the prom out from under her or some shit, all jealous and whatnot. "Stay away from my man, you...you're...so stupid I secretly find you funny, gahhh, and I hate your friends and your gramma's a whore." I don't doubt it. She was very encouraging to my face though, which felt nice. And just like that, I've gone absolutely off-track for like the third time tonight. I guess sometimes ya just gotta write your way outta the situations you write yourself into, even if it's just to see where it takes you. If you're anything like me, you don't care where you end up, but you're not like me because all your entries are shorter and prettier and more sensible. But mine are dangerous and look particularly saucy with a popped collar and a leather jacket, so at least I've got that goin' for me. It may not be boobs, but it's still fun to look at once in awhile.  "What are some of the ways you make your non-writing time serve your writing?"I'll tell you what it doesn't do...it doesn't serve me dinner, or rub my tired bones and muscles after a long day, or boobs, or take notes on every possible thing I wish I could remember to include once I've sat down for another attempt at writing, that's for damn sure. I feel like I was born without a gene or three, the ones the rest of you writer people seem to have that makes your efforts seem, well, uhhh, for lack of a better word, effortless. Y'all write three solid paragraphs about the same things I use 2,500 words for. It makes my lack of motivation seem like a fluke, or a farce...it's legit, I swear! I just...carry on. I don't have that editing/restructuring/word economy thing. The off button gets jammed, and sometimes thoughts get lost in translation from the brain to the fingertips. I'm the reverse of a dollar store Barbie doll knock-off...you click on this link and you wind up with triple the pointlessness, like thoughts of thinking about thinking of thoughts, or something. Seriously. Be glad I don't remember half the shit I see or think about when the time comes for me to make words out of the images in my head. You think this is too long now as it is? It'd easily be three or four times longer, depending on what I've actually done or how far into society I decided to venture on whatever day. Everything's in play as soon as I leave the house...if I can see it, experience it, or it gets in my way, it's fodder. Until I forget it, or it gets replaced by some other act of beauty or lunacy or whatever. And that's what we should all strive to do, I think...be aware of your surroundings in a way that it informs your writing. Not that I write anything else typically but from personal experience, but if you're into things with characters like stories, take note of inanimate objects and use their qualities to develop them into personalities. Like a tree in the wind, or a rusty mailbox, or a flickering light. Not everyone has to be based on another person...just look beyond what you can see with your eyes, and note the human qualities. Sometimes I like to fantasize about what life would be like if I channeled my energy into being a serious writer. Like, actually writing drafts of everything and polishing copies and editing more than just scribbling out words and lines and drawing the occasional arrow or caret. Fawning over my precious combinations of letters and punctuations pretentiously. Actually caring about etymology instead of making up words when the spell-checker thinks it's smarter than what I'm trying to get across. Not being lazy. The old saying, for bands and musicians, often goes "You have your whole life to write your first album, and 18 months to write your follow-up" or something like that, and it probably holds for more successful authors too. They might spend all their free time pouring over their first book, that manuscript, whatever, in between their day job and family and obligations; if they're lucky and they get it right the first time, then they're expected to produce another one, although now maybe they don't have as much to worry about besides writing it (even though they may not have the same leeway as far as life experiences offer as well). How would I work, if that's how I allowed myself to be? Would it make a difference in the finished product? I dunno. I don't write the kind of things that need more than the moment's inspiration. Once I get this entry edited and posted, I may possibly never look at it again. That's how I operate. And what's weirder is...that's what I paid to do here. I'm obviously not making money off this, so it doesn't much matter more than a day or two after it's left my system. I have more than a basic WDC membership so I can not care, which is the opposite of pretty much every published author alive who has also made money from his or her book(s). They write and edit and revise and write more and proofread and all that noise, and they get paid for it. I'm lucky if I'll remember what this entry is about come next Sunday, when someone else might read it for the first time because it's up for the "Blogging Circle of Friends " 's "Blogger Of The Week" award. Funny how that works out, isn't it?Anyway, that's just part of what I at least remembered I thought about on most days, while you're too busy being you and doing more important things. ** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** Day Three of the awesome and mighty "Resurrection Jukebox" ! I'll fully admit...I got lucky today, because I have a trifecta of dead people and covers, and even I'm impressed. It's very likely that I may have used the Weezer/Deftones connection in last year's Rez Juke. I'm almost sure of it just because I had to Wiki the dead bassist from Weezer, and again I had the wrong guy's name (it was Mikey Welsh, and he was in the band after Weezer's second album and for part of their third). And I used to have some Deftones bootlegs where they covered early Weezer songs, like a slower, sexy take on "Say It Ain't So" , and my personal favorite, "El Scorcho" , that I had my hands on sometime between 1998 and 2000 (and I remember this only because I got them from a guy I worked with, but midway through '99 I transferred to a different part of the company and in between those gigs I went on a family vacation to Nashville; a trip I'd made a couple of mixtapes for because we were driving from Buffalo). Anyway, some years later in 2008 the Deftones would lose their own bassist, Chi Cheng, who was hurt in a car crash and slipped into a coma. He eventually passed away in 2013. And that's where I was cool with this entry leaving off...band with a dead guy covered by another band with a dead guy. But here's the spot things then get weird, because I found one last bootleg of the Deftones covering Weezer after I'd seen "El Scorcho". I can tell you that I remember having a version of "Tired Of Sex", but what YouTube taught me this afternoon was that not only is there another, other version besides what I owned, but that I was also not prepared for what I was about to see. Because it's the Deftones, playing "Tired Of Sex", and then they segue right into "Keep On Loving You". Yes, that "Keep On Loving You". By REO Speedwagon. Amazeballs. So I figured what the hell, why not look at their Wiki page . I mean, I'm familiar with the REO staples that classic rock stations across the country like to play once an hour. But I had no freaking clue how many people had actually been in the band. They've had more former members than the GOP has on their current ballot. I had no idea! And yet surprisingly, for a band whose heyday was from the mid-seventies to the mid-eighties, only one person has passed away...I'll save you from reading their whole friggin' history to get to the very last line, which announces that their former guitarist and songwriter, Gary Richrath, died on September 13, 2015. He just passed away! (Ok, look, I know it sounds disrespectful and all, because the body's not even cold yet, but this is the Rez Juke...y'all know what it's about, and by the third day the actual death part is secondary.) So here it is...a live rendition of the Deftones doing both Weezer and REO Speedwagon, and all three bands have dead members. My personal death toll after three days is what, 7? That's pretty good. I might have to start Googling entire bands who are deceased now just to keep up though.  "I'm spread so thin I don't know who I am." "Tired Of Sex" lyrics. "You played dead, but you never bled." "Keep On Loving You" lyrics. And I guess that's where I'm gonna end this entry tonight, folks. I had rants lined up on a couple other topics, but if I get started on them I might not finish this entry at all tonight and it's already starting to creep up near my bedtime. Like, I know I've got shit to do tomorrow and I can't sleep in or anything, and I was up kinda ridiculously early by my standards today and all, but when did I get so old that I have to consistently be in bed before 11pm? What's wrong with me? I have so many websites stored in my Pocket app now that I have no idea when they got in there or why...some are at least six months old. But this entry's long enough as it is, and I'm sorry for having put you through all that. I'm like the GMO blogger; I should come with a label that warns you of all the non-nutritious crap I'm gonna fill you up with, yet for some reason you come back for second and third and 158th helpings. So, ummm, thanks for that . Peace, still I don't remember, boobs, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! Scandalous. That hair, I mean. |
| "Write a blog entry for Saturday and Sunday. On Saturday, write about a current event of issue you are strongly in favor of. Then on Sunday, pick a fellow blogger's topic from Saturday, and write your opinion on their topic." What's up you guys? It's Sunday, which means I should be watching football and not paying too much attention to anything else, and that's how I spent the early part of my afternoon...until halftime of the Bills game, when my body decided a nap was more important. I dozed off knowing the Bills were in a tight game against the Bengals, and when I woke up they were being curb-stomped (more on that later). Now I'm in a bit of a bitter mood, having pissed away a good another Sunday, and on top of it I don't really feel like writing this entry anymore. But here I am anyway, because I signed up for some stuff and I should contribute, and I hate starting things and not finishing them (like, say, multi-part blog entries of the serial variety). Plus, I made the effort to read all of yesterday's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" entries first thing this morning, so it would make sense for me to not let all of the information I've gleaned from them go to waste. Everyone stepped up with some great takes on current news, which was nice to see...and then I made the mistake of leaving thought-out comments on them, when I could've just sandbagged them all into one big entry for myself. I could've been Selfish Norb!! What was I thinking?!So, I mean, I guess you could go into the 30DBC forum and read all the 10/17 posts and then read my responses. But your weekend is dwindling away and you probably don't have time for that and frankly, I don't blame you. Instead, allow me to use my amazing powers of recall to share with you a couple things that have stayed in my memory since this morning (which is no small feat in itself, ya know ). skeason  's entry, "Invalid Entry" , about the Bill Cosby sexual assault accusers being on a magazine cover: First of all, if you're not reading Skeason's blog, shame on you, because you don't know how awesome it is. Second, she makes great points (as usual), in a voice only she can. Third, I wrote an entry earlier in the summer about Cosby and his situation, but I can't find it because I don't feel like looking for it. And when I used my blog's search bar to look up any mentions of "Bill Cosby", an entry came up where I didn't really talk about it ("This one's about your drink, your food, and my muse." )...and honestly, my feelings on it are summed up quite simply in three words: fuck Bill Cosby. amyjo-Keeping it real and fun! 's entry, "Invalid Entry" , about how schools need to be better: I absolutely agree. Schools need to do better by both students and teachers. It needs to be said that it's not always the fault of the teacher or the student when the child doesn't do well. Not all kids learn at the same pace or in the same way. I understand that most public schools are trying to work within budgetary constraints to accommodate as many kids as possible in an economically sound manner, but it's not enough. Something's gotta give, and right now the way things are, it's the students that suffer the most. But that's just my way of looking at it, which I can do because I don't have kids and don't really care...except that eventually these kids are gonna be fighting for more jobs that just aren't out there anymore, because companies that hire minimally-educated people for minimum wage are constantly trimming that segment of opportunity every chance they get. And that's a fact. Prosperous Snow celebrating  's entry, "Saturday, Ocotober 17, 2015, Current Event or Political Rant" , about presidential candidate electioneering: This might've been my favorite entry of the day, actually. It's concise and to the point. And every four years, or however long election cycles are running these days in the US, it gets worse. Almost as soon as a party loses an election, they start wondering who will run in the next one. Sure, on some level it makes sense to take time figuring out who the best person to trot out in a race to see who gets to be the figurehead of the free world, but how much is too much? At what point do we stop and ask "How much of this dog and pony show is really necessary?" All you have to do is look at the slate of Republican candidates at their primaries. The list reads like one of my insane babbling blog entries. There's, like, 16 of 'em. And probably ten of them have no business running for treasurer of the chess club at your local high school, let alone President Of The United States. It's a waste of time and an insult to our intelligence. How effective can a debate between that many people really be? Let's cut through the bullshit, and say that on January 1st of an election year, your party can run out no more than five people. Maybe then we'll see the growth in strength of an actual third political party. And if your team can't produce five solid candidates, then try harder next time, or good luck, or whatever. If you give people too many options, then you're giving them no options. Americans have too much other shit on their plates as it is, between jobs and families and lives of their own and who's coming back from the dead on Game Of Thrones...the last thing most of us want to do is create an Excel spreadsheet cross-referencing every candidate's stance on all the "issues", just to see who'll probably fuck us over the least for the next four or maybe eight years. So there's my take on your takes for The Sunday Saturday/Sunday News. In short, everything's broken, no one knows how to fix it so that everyone's happy, and (in case you forgot) the New York Mets are still good this year. ** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** Day Two of the "Resurrection Jukebox" ! Look, I'm not gonna sit here and make you read through the umpteenth rehashing of a good friend of mine dating a girl I really thought was the one for me like twenty years ago. We weren't even dating so much as she would just come over a few nights during the week after work to watch reruns of The Golden Girls and make out on my couch. I'm over it, she's over it, he's over it...the details don't matter so much anymore. It was just the basic boy meets girl, girl doesn't know what she wants, friend winds up going out with her for a few years, and I grow up sad and bitter throughout my 20's. Happens to the best of us at some point, even if it's something I personally am not into. Was I heartbroken? Of course...I lost the girl and (for awhile) the friend. And it made things awkward at times because we all had multiple mutual friends in common. And that's why I guess this song is fitting. The original version of "My Best Friend's Girl" is by The Cars, who broke up in the late 80's and reformed briefly in 2010 minus bassist Benjamin Orr (who passed away from cancer in 2000)...and the cover is from Nirvana, a little trio from Seattle that was fronted by some guy named Kurt Cobain (who is also dead, either from a suicide or a psycho wife, depending on who you believe).  Not Kurt Cobain. I don't know if this counts because technically Nirvana never released this song officially. Bootlegs exist all over the place of them playing it live though, and most versions I've seen on YouTube are crappy at best, but who knew anyone would be interested in video for blogging purposes back in 1992? If you say you were, please stop because no one believes you. "Oh, when you bite your lip it's some reaction to love. (Here she comes again) When she's dancing 'neath the starry sky, yeah... she's my best friend's girl, and she used to be mine" Lyrics.  So yeah, the Bills started a backup quarterback and lost bad to a good team. I fell asleep at the start of the 3rd quarter, and I never really recovered until the game was over. My laptop had gone into sleep mode somehow while I was out, and sometimes when I'm streaming football games the feed gets really choppy anyway, and I'd care more if it were a closer game, but whatever. The best part of a shitty game is the Nick Mendola recap anyway. And next week is another attempt at the NFL invading Europe, with the Bills going across the pond to play the perennially shitty team from Jacksonville, which means if I want to watch the game I better be up at 9:30am (no guarantees on that currently). I wish the NFL would stop forcing itself on other countries, I wish Jacksonville would stop forcing their team on the rest of the league because the franchise is an embarrassment, and I wish football players (and professional athletes in general, and we may as well include dopey old-man comedians, rappers, entertainers, and the male side of the human race) would stop forcing themselves on women. I also wish weather wouldn't force itself upon me, because I shouldn't have to wake up in the morning when I've planned to go anywhere and see this out my window: Fuck this. I haven't prepared for hibernation yet, That's the view from my second-story window around 11am-ish. The lovely clock tower, the Cortland Diner, and snow. If you live in an area that doesn't receive snow very often and would like to trade places with me, I can definitely hook you up. I don't know how much longer I can stand it here in these conditions...no joke. The first really cold day we had last week, my body felt like it was rebelling internally. My joints were refusing to cooperate smoothly, like they've actually started rejecting anything less than 45 degrees. The old joke used to be "If I have to wear pants, it's too cold!" Now it's a rule. It's not even November yet and I'm sick of it already. Hey, there was some positive stuff happening too! Last night the Mets beat the Cubs in the first game of the NLCS. Game Two starts in less than two hours, so I guess that means I better put a lid on this entry soon. Unlike football games, the baseball games I stream are pretty smooth most of the time...which means maybe I should be like the rest of society and actually get a tv, so I don't have to bitch about it anymore.  And finally, speaking of tv, if I don't get one maybe I should at least invest in a decent (read: legal) streaming option for on-demand television I can watch on my laptop or tablet. Last night was comedian Tracy Morgan's return to Saturday Night Live after a serious limousine/semi truck accident that left one person dead, and because I use the basic service from Hulu, who knows when it'll actually air. Seems like every year new episodes from popular tv shows run later and later than their original on-air broadcast, which kinda sucks because if I want to avoid spoilers or anything like that, I pretty much have to avoid social media...which probably isn't a bad idea anyway, but still...get your shit together, Hulu! Stop trying to make me pay for something that everyone has the chance to watch for free anyway! Bastards. They wanna getchya comin' and goin'. I just wanna fall asleep at night watching the couple shows I watch each week without struggling to remember when they're on or having to plan my life around them at certain times each week. Ok, well, put it in the books. We're done here. Time to tie up a couple of loose ends around here before the first pitch...and hopefully my weekend will end on a more positive note. It feels like it's too early in the season for me to become a bitter old man just yet...luckily the snow hasn't started sticking yet, so the ice hasn't begun to form in my veins. Peace, he doesn't know the real surprise, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| "Write a blog entry for Saturday and Sunday. On Saturday, write about a current event of issue you are strongly in favor of. Then on Sunday, pick a fellow blogger's topic from Saturday, and write your opinion on their topic." What's up y'all? I love it when I can write an entry for the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" that I didn't have to also come up with the prompt for...so show my man Brother Nature  some love for being the Official Unofficial 30DBC Host. First round down at "Invalid Item" is on Andre.   I read a lot of blog entries, being that I'm the Official Official 30DBC Host and all. So I have a pretty fair idea of what works each month and what doesn't. One category that gets a lot of flak each month seems to be my personal favorite, The Sunday News. So how many of you taking part in this month's mini-challenges were kinda pissed when you saw that this prompt was not only a "current events" prompt, but it also stretches out for two days?? I love it! It seems so easy...grab a headline from your favorite news source and say a few things about it. I don't get what's so difficult, or why people have a hard time with it. If you're taking part in blogging, you already have the computer and the internet. Go to Yahoo or MSN or Facebook or your email or whatever site and boom! News. And don't tell me you don't have an opinion on anything. Just...forget this. Close down your laptop and go be one with nature or something, because you clearly don't need to be blogging if you don't give a shit about anything. I legit clinically don't give a shit about so many things, and yet I still have opinions and can remain somewhat informed about what's going on in the world around me, so if I can do it, so can y'all. Nut up and own your little smack of internet think-piecing. I'd like to dedicate this portion of my entry today to my friend ♥Hooves♥ ...her and I appear to be the only New York Mets fans on all of WDC. If all you know about me is from this blog, you might not know that I'm an avid follower of the NY team that plays in Queens; I've been a blogger for, like, seven or eight years, and most of that time has been filled with reasons not to care about baseball. Summers are long and baseball seasons are 162 games...it's easy to brush them off when they're everyday occurrences and your team pretty much sucks. But no. Not in 2015. For the unaware, the Mets are good now [Side note: I love that USA Today runs a column titled FTW...when "FTW" became a popular acronym, I'd always assumed for some reason it stood for "Fuck The World" and not "For The Win". I still like my version better.]. Everyone who talks about baseball loves the Yankees, and no one cares about the Mets. It's news when the Yankees win, because they're supposed to, and it's news when they don't win, because they're supposed to always win. But it's pretty hard to win when you're sitting on the couch, watching the other NY team. In October. You have no idea how much it pleases me that I've typed the words "baseball", "Mets", and "October" in the same entry.  I will use this gif every chance I get. I don't get to experience this joy often, so you damn well better believe I'm gonna ride it as far as it'll go. I don't care if I grew up in Buffalo, which is not the city people think of when you tell them you're from New York and is, in fact, on the exact opposite end of the state. I don't care that I live now about three hours away from Citi Field, where tonight's Game 1 of the National League Championship Series is being played. I don't even care that the last time I looked out my window, I saw the very first brittle attempts at snow falling from the sky...and I fucking hate snow with a tremendous, burning passion. It's October, and finally I can watch meaningful baseball with a direct rooting interest. I will hopefully stave off my impending seasonally-afflicted depression long enough to enjoy this for everything that it is. I've earned it. I became a Mets fan in the summer of '85, and the next year they won the World Series. Since then, it's been mostly rough admitting my fandom. I got older, life got in the way, and let's face it...baseball is the least exciting sport to watch even under the best circumstances. But I'm back. I'm riveted. I'm ready. Let's go Mets. #LGM   "Do you think 'take it one day at a time' is good advice? Why or Why not?"I want to...I really do. I mean, on the surface, it is. But I'm one of the worst when it comes to implementing that sort of strategy into my everyday life. We have all these resources at our fingertips devised to help us plan ahead and prepare for every outcome, that it seems almost dangerous to let life just happen. We've become control freaks without even knowing it. At times it seems like America's biggest spectator sport is watching what happens to someone who fails to understand what's expected of him or her, despite all warnings...the biggest failure, however, is not realizing that we don't know all the reasons behind the choices people make in spite of information. It's very view and react, with a side of hot taek...and then details trickle out and make you look stupid for not seeing the forest for the trees, or whatever that phrase means. All I know is it's a common reaction amongst all the hot taek-ers out there. But back to my second sentence in this portion, and how it relates to me. I'm a thinker, an over-thinker, an analyzer, and a detriment to myself. I want to one day at a time things so bad, so much, but at what cost? What will I miss out on? What will I forget? How unprepared for catastrophe will I be? Why wasn't I ready for what will inevitably go wrong, because I should've known that something will go wrong because that's what almost always happens? And then I have to explain myself when the rubber hits the road, and that's a situation I've proven I'm not good at either. Things go bad, and people get out of it or get through it. But I'm not a bullshitter [Side note: I love that my spell-checker doesn't flag "bullshitter"...what a double-plus like on my side, huh?]. I can't hold lies very well. I can't fool myself, or others. The moral don't fuck this one up or over is strong over here these days; stronger than ever maybe, but maybe that's because I'm pretty much only dealing with me now and while it maybe used to be ok to leverage myself against myself, I just don't have the will or patience for that anymore. Call it maturity, I guess. I'm 40...that maturity bitch better start kickin' in soon, right? One day at a time...maybe it works for people in AA or on old-ass cheesy tv shows , but it's never been the case for me. If I knew how to relax, I would...but there's always been something that keeps the wheels in my head spinnin'. It happens. Life happens, and no matter what, there's nothin' you can do about it...the head, or life. Worry now, or worry later, it seems. There are no days off. I can't go to the head of Human Resources and ask for a break. One pill or four or six doesn't change anything. The calendar still flips, whether I'm doing it or pretending it's not. "I'm not living...I'm just killing time." That's me, right there. A head full of ideas and thoughts and a heart and a soul, compressed into someone who never understood how people needed medications to function until he, well, needed to be medicated to figure out how best to function, and it's still not right sometimes.Sorry if that bums you out or makes you sad. One day at a time though, and you'll be over it! ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** OMG...the day I've been waiting for, and yet I'm still woefully unprepared for it despite my best intentions and the fact that I've read the rules and stipulations a few times and still feel kinda cloudy about them. Covers?  Dead people? How I'm supposed to work this?  I feel like I'm starting strong here, but also emptying my chamber at the same time (and it's a nice reminder that at some point I should finish up my stories for "Musicology Anthology" , where I thought it'd be a good idea to talk about baseball and hip hop back in the late 80's/early 90's, using Paul's Boutique as a reference point). Ugh...I don't want that to be another example of how I get all gung-ho on something and then just let it evaporate. But anyway, this is my blog and this is what I'm cosigning. I don't know how many people realize that Run DMC gave this song to the Beastie Boys. It qualifies as my pick in for the "Resurrection Jukebox" because: 1) Jam Master Jay is dead; 2) MCA is dead; and 3) I prefer pretty much everything these days being both slow and low, unlike my younger self who was fast and crazy and up here when he really should've been down here and it was all about now now now. One day at a time? I've got all the days now. And now I feel like I need to watch Krush Groove again, soon.  "I do not sing but I make a def song. You could live your whole life, and I hope you live long." Lyrics. Well, that appears to be all I have for this evening. So much for getting this outta the way early...I don't know what time I actually started writing this entry, but I decided eating and napping were more important than finishing it at one point, and now I've only got a few minutes to proof it and post it before the first pitch. I'll take that though over not being in the playoffs for another year. Peace, you'll be rewarded, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "Farewell Party Playlist: This one can be for a going away party, a graduation party, or anything else you can think of, as long as it means 'farewell' to you."'Sup y'all? This is not gonna be a great entry. Every other prompt for "Invalid Item" came very easy to me; with this one, I'm already a day late and I still struggled to fill out an entire 10-song list that didn't totally suck. Hell, most days I think I easily rattled off at least twenty songs in my head or on paper and sorted them fairly well. Not so much over yesterday and today. I think the biggest reason for this is that I'm terrible at goodbyes. I'm very uncomfortable about them and I have no idea why. I don't think, to my recollection at least, I was scarred by any one in particular. I'm just not cool with change I guess. I don't like it when some things end. And this turned out to be a really fun activity (not that I doubted it'd be), so I'm a tiny bit sad to see it go away. I wonder what The StoryMaster is gonna do once all the "Invalid Item" contests are over and archived for posterity; I think Fran 💜 💜 💜 pretty much has her own dedicated server now at WDC headquarters (but Elle - on hiatus  has something up her sleeve apparently, if "Note: *throws her last to-do list in the rubbish*
*^*Bo..." is any indication, and if that's the case then I'm pretty sure her and Fran just trade sweaters full of stuff ready to be plotted each month ). And before you guys accuse me of getting all sappy and sentimental, it's not like I'm goin' away or anything. No one's running off to college or going to jail (I hope). We're not some mega huge graduating class wishing each other a fond "stay in touch" while secretly hoping/knowing we'll never see each other again...in fact, most of you are already signed up for the "Resurrection Jukebox" that starts in like two or three days anyways, so I'll bump into you all there (*looks at ~Minja~   *). I'll wake up tomorrow knowing I'm not actively taking part in anything that immediately demands some attention, I'll exhale, and our respective days will all go off accordingly. But I just have to get this last playlist outta the way first. Like I said in "Re: Day 7" last night, this was super hard for some reason. I didn't wanna come up with high school "don't forget me" songs, or breakup songs, or triflin' hoe shit. And yet, that's kinda what I did anyway. Let's just get on with it and get it over with. 1) "I Will See You In Far-Off Places" by Morrissey Ever notice that the songs about missing someone, or seeing someone later, or songs in general about death or loss or moving on are often toward the end of an album? Or at least at the end of Side A, for all the old school vinyl and cassette types? Only someone like Morrissey could pull off opening a record with sentiments like that...but it's not sad so much as it's hopeful.2) "Stay Young" by Oasis Funny story about this...I'm an Oasis fan. Not a superfan by any stretch, but I'm familiar with most of their catalog. A while ago (back in my GPC days, for anyone who read my previous entry, "This one's about karaoke night." ) my sister had a friend who was determined to move out of state after graduating. She was serious about it, and as her friends we all of course supported her decision...every time she made it. Details of each occasion are murky, so I don't really know who to blame anymore or why or what happened...but I can think of at least three instances where I went to some kind of "going away party" for this girl. And she never went anywhere. By the third time I was very skeptical of the whole thing, her moving out of state. I was very pissed up, and decided to dedicate this song to her at karaoke, because we'd miss her and blah blah blah and whatever and we won't forget you and all that bullshit we'd already been through. Only, it turned out that I had no idea what this god damn song even sounded like (although I'd heard it numerous times). By far, the worst drunken karaoke performance ever. I was rude and arrogant and snotty and wasted and slurring and I don't think I managed to get out a single coherent verse. And I was a total douchebag on top of it, rockin' a shaggy Liam Gallagher haircut and wearing sunglasses in a bar at night. In other words, it was sorta perfect. 3) "Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds Am I just fucked up at remembering things, or were the 80's the best decade for songs like this? Those torch-bearing "don't forget me" anthems like this one, so aptly titled? This was, like a #1 hit single...but if it would've come out ten or fifteen years later it probably would've just been another forgotten song all the Emo kids listened to. Maybe it's because it played at the end of an iconic 80's high school movie (seriously, if you've never seen The Breakfast Club then I don't think we can be friends). Or does every generation identify with a certain group of songs that signify moving from one chapter in life to another? I can't really peg a song from the 90's or later that sticks with me like this one. It's probably just me and my selective attention-paying.4) "Snowbirds And Townies" by Further Seems Forever Speaking of Emo...I can't believe I've never seen this video until tonight, and I wish I hadn't now because it's basically one long American Eagle commercial circa 2001, but gawd this song is incredible. "Working-class boys, dreaming of girls from faraway points"...that line always kills me. So many good lines in a song basically about seasonal relationships. It never used to feel this good to feel so sad.5) "Never Let Me Down Again" by Depeche Mode Depeche Mode is one of those bands that I never really got into until so many years later. I wanna say sometime in the late summer/early fall of 2003, I worked very briefly as a vacuum salesman...maybe three weeks. A lot of travel; seven or eight of us in a van to rural towns sometimes two hours away. It sucked. And my "boss", I guess, if that's what he was, would often play DM on the late-night rides back into town. He was the least likely person I would've guessed at the time to be into them...shaved head, neck tattoos, real gruff badass shit-talkin' type, smash a beer bottle and threaten you with it, maybe my age or even younger. But he'd pop them in and the van would get quiet and contemplative, and it would all just sink in. I have no real reason for adding this to my list today other than I was playing Song Pop on Facebook while trying to come up with stuff for this entry, and this came up. And it's my favorite Depeche Mode song. 6) "Stay Gold, Ponyboy" by The Get Up Kids I'm not gonna get into too many details about it, because it still makes me sad in ways that maybe it shouldn't anymore and there's a lot to the story, but we all process things differently. Someone very, very close to me wound up going into rehab for various drugs. It was live-in program for teens, and he wound up spending something like eight or nine months there. For awhile I wasn't even allowed to visit him, because I was my own brand of fuck-up at the time, but we were allowed to exchange letters. It was hard on me because of how I viewed my role in our relationship and I know it was hard on him for his reasons, but I know I had let him down a lot and that wasn't gonna change. I was listening to Four Minute Mile a lot in those days; there are a lot of parallels in those lyrics to my life throughout it. I had roughly a six minute drive to work, and if this came on I would be a blubbering, bawling mess by the time I pulled into the parking lot. Eventually he'd scored enough good-behavior time to get out for a little bit on the weekends, and sometimes we'd hit up an AA meeting and then have lunch, and it was all good. We'd been friends for so long and yet I never saw any of it coming; I was too wrapped up in my own life and my problems. And I wish I could say I learned something from it all. I think I'm still learning. And I may never stop. 7) "Pictures Of You" by The Cure Another band I didn't start listening to until much, much later...but I definitely remember when this song was popular-ish. It always made me...wistful? Is that the right word? I had a friend in high school that I thought of every time I heard this on the radio. We were both "different", you know, not like everyone else, and there were times people thought we should be boyfriend/girlfriend. Maybe she wanted to be, I don't know. I know there were times I wanted to be, but I never pushed it. Maybe I was too afraid she'd say no, and that would make the friendship weird or whatever...you know how kids work when they're 14, 15, etc. I guess what I'm saying is that I still think of her whenever I hear this song. She was a really cool ass unique person. But I'm sure everyone has a few songs that remind them of specific people in a wistful way. 8) "I've Got Friends" by Manchester Orchestra And then there are bands that I'd see one time on a late-night talk show, fire up iTunes, and buy an album because I liked what I saw. I forget what the exact song was but that's how I came to buy Mean Everything To Nothing (which is also the song I almost used today as well in this spot). I'm not gonna get all depressive or anything about what this song means, other than I've felt like what these lyrics describe a lot in the past, and there are parts of me that are still trying to get over feeling like that even now.9) "Wave Goodbye" by Chris Cornell There are many songs with bleak lyrics or meanings that are wrapped up in a palatable package for the ear. This isn't the darkest or saddest lyrically, and sound-wise it won't put an instant smile on your face, but it's brighter to listen to the lyrics against the grunge/funk going on...it makes the subject matter easier to swallow, I guess. "Every hurtful thing you ever said is ringing in your ear when you miss somebody"...yup. So true. Especially when you know you can't just take those words back, or make that person reappear.10) "Death Is Not The End" by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds (with Kylie Minogue, Shane MacGowan, Blixa Bargeld, and Mick Harvey) The final (and perhaps the most beautiful) song on Murder Ballads. Originally a Bob Dylan tune, but it just doesn't seem right to me in his voice (and no, that has nothing to do with my secret Kylie Minogue crush either ). There's a feeling here that nothing is ever truly final, even the most final of endings; there's comfort and reassurance. Like saying goodbye seems like it's for forever; I'd rather say that no matter what, I'll see you soon. Maybe a day or a year, maybe decades from now; maybe here or there, or someplace unknown. At least that's how I see it. Again, this isn't a perfect list. I'm sure if I were to think about this some other time, maybe it'd be easier or I'd have more fitting songs. Hopefully this particular tracklisting isn't too much of a downer. I know the etymology behind a word like farewell is meant to imply a more positive spin on the act of people parting ways, but it seldom feels like any reason is truly a good reason, even if the intentions are 100% inline and legit. Sometimes, certain people aren't meant to be apart, but that's just another hard lesson we all have to learn about life.  I really enjoyed this past week and this activity. I'm glad Charlie ~ hosted it as part of "Invalid Item" , and the music nerd (I hesitate about even bothering to type those two words in a self-referencing manner now after trading comments with Cinn  the other day ) in me loves talking about music and songs and meanings and lyrics and seeing who likes what and why...it's all a part of what makes us who we are. Thanks for letting me share my playlists with you...see ya in a few days for "Resurrection Jukebox"  . Peace, better things like winter flings, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "Karaoke Party Playlist: You're up on mic. What are you singing?"Good evening friends...I have a confession to make that will surprise none of you who have been reading for any length of time anything I've typed up for the internet. When I saw this prompt, it brought me instant and immense joy (for you see, sometimes I am very easily pleased and amused). I have quite an extensive history with karaoke. But that's not to say I can actually sing. No bullshit; I can't. I'm terrible. For someone with esteem issues in abundance and a profound level of humility that often stunts my willingness to toot my own horn over pretty much everything, I can probably name at least 1,656 things I'm better at than using my voice in any combination of melody, tone, vibration, harmony, and rhythm. Seriously. But for some reason, unlike everything else I'm really bad at, that doesn't seem to stop me. If I should find myself in a bar with open, live mics, you can bet your last dollar I'll breeze my way up in front of them. And I always swear I won't make an ass outta myself, but if you had a second last dollar you could bet that too. It started a long, long time ago. I used to live within walking distance of a place called Razzberries (this was back when it was "cool" to swap the letter S for Z, or drop the E from "extreme" to prove how X-treme you were). We found out that they had karaoke on Monday nights, so we went to check it out to see what it was like (and we needed an excuse to get hammered on a Monday night). The place had a really nice set-up for a bar that sounded like it was named for a strip club or after a stripper. You walked in and the bar was on the right, on the left was an outdoor patio, and just past that there were stairs that led to a downstairs seating area...and halfway between floors was a large landing that was sorta, I guess, barely big enough to be a stage. Many a Monday night was spent right there on that spot, shredding vocal cords and making Tuesday mornings nearly impossible to tolerate at work. From there, once the Razz was shut down or almost burned down or however these things go down in the bar world, we moved over to the Garden Park Cafe (GPC for short). The only draw to that place, as far as I know now for at least the last 10 years and probably a lot longer), is that they have karaoke seven nights a week. They, like, advertise that shit. And before you even ask "Who sings karaoke on a Tuesday night??", I will ask you to please consider that you're reading my blog, and I've made questionable life choices at times. I was hangin' out with a bunch of guys known as the J-Bag$, and I won't claim to know the full origins of the moniker nor will I admit to being anything but an honorary J-Bag, because that was my understanding. And they knew people who knew people, and that's where we ended up on many occasions. Very often. You could walk in to GPC on any night of the week and find at least a couple of us there. It got to the point that...you know those dry erase boards that the drink specials in bars or restaurants are written on with neon pens and blacklit? GPC's board no longer read anything but J-Bag$, and whatever consecutive numbered day we were on that our presence was known...sorta like how your job might have a poster that says "No workplace accidents in (x) days." It became a challenge...a week turned into a month, a month turned into 50 days, 50 turned into a hundred, etc. I don't know when the streak stopped, to tell you the truth...I stopped going for a variety of reasons, but I've ducked in there once or twice in the last couple of years, and outside of maybe a bartender or two, I haven't recognized anyone. But how ridiculous is that? Somehow, some combination of a bunch of the same people went to the same place every freakin' day, drank beers, played darts, and sang karaoke. Granted, there might be nights where only one or two of us showed up long enough for a beer, a song, and to change the number on the board, but there were far more nights we'd keep the place open until 2 or 3 am. Outstanding, I know. Some people in their 20's and 30's settle down, buy houses, have kids...some of us did not. Some people spend money collecting stuff to put on shelves just to gather dust, or do elaborate things to cars, or go on weekend trips and vacations often. We...mostly did not. We...partied. Pretty much daily. Singing karaoke. We knew everyone...bouncers, bartenders, barbacks, DJ's, other regular customers. We were like rock stars of this kinda shitty little place. I stopped at a gas station one night for a pack of smokes and the guy behind the counter was like "I know you...<thinks for a minute> J-Bag$!! Are you going to Garden Park tonight?" and I just kinda smiled uncomfortably, but in my head I was like "Wow...this shit's outta hand." So yeah...I spent too much of my late 20's and early 30's singing terribly into a microphone in front of friends and strangers. I'm almost ashamed to admit that I have a wide repertoire of songs in my karaoke arsenal, should I ever feel compelled to knock the dust off my pipes and feel the rush once more. What I lack in talent and shame I can make up for in drunken stupidity and raw energy, which I somehow proved on my 40th birthday a few months ago (see "This one's about Perseid, the future, and fortune telling." ). I'm no longer an everyday power, but I can still hold my own when called upon in spot duty. Here are ten songs that will appear on my Greatest Hits collection, long after the memories have faded...I had to limit myself to the first ten I could think of; otherwise, I never would've gotten around to typing this up. And don't forget to tip your bartenders and your DJ's. 1) "You've Got To Hide Your Love Away" by The Beatles I've always preferred to start nights off slowly, and quietly. When the bar's half-empty and the night's beginning, it makes no sense to shoot all your bullets early. I'd sit on the barstool and mellow out...plus, this is a short song, so it makes for a nice warm-up. And at some point during my crazed karaoke years, Eddie Vedder covered this for a movie soundtrack, which was nice. 2) "Plush" by Stone Temple Pilots Some great singers have three distinct levels to their voices: the deep, rich part; their normal-sounding voice; and either a super falsetto or a gritty wailing screamy kinda thing. Axl Rose is one, and Scott Weiland from STP has one. I...do not, but I can definitely hit the low notes. I was in my school's chorus from 7th-10 grades, and had one of the lowest voices. Amazing that in four years of training, one bout of the flu wiped out all my range for good when I was a junior. But that's neither here nor there...this song is great because a good crowd will clap along to it, and a clapping audience almost always masks how shitty you sound .3) "Float On" by Modest Mouse I don't care who you are; this song is ridiculously hard to sing. Try it. Here are the lyrics . I'm convinced it's almost impossible even for people who are really good singers. Side note: Am I the only one who thinks sometimes people with really nice singing voices sound like total shit during certain songs? I don't think there's a metric for it or anything, but, like, you know people who can sing the shit outta opera music but sound like hot garbage during any Bon Jovi song, yet they sing it every week?? Huh...now I know what it must've been like listening to me all those years, minus the opera talent.4) "Clint Eastwood" by Gorillaz Back in the early days of my Razzberries experience, I had a roommate. And said roommate used to have to convince me that going out on a Monday night was a good idea. He was definitely a mama's boy and I have no idea what would get into him on Mondays that made him want to go out so much on them, but I usually did it just to shut him up. I think he was convinced that singing karaoke was gonna get him laid (it did not). He liked singing predictable shit, like Billy Joel and classic rock and he'd name something and we'd laugh 'cuz I thought he'd be joking, and then he'd put in a slip for it and sing and I'd just stare at him like "You gotta be shittin' me" and the only people that would care about what he sang were the 53-year-old chicks that couldn't admit to themselves they no longer looked 24. It was unfortunate and funny, and he was no better singer than I was, but he really put his heart into it and once in awhile he'd come up with a good idea, like "Clint Eastwood". The sucky part is that I'd actually sounded ok singing the chorus, but he was too pussy to rap Del The Funky Homosapien's parts, so I'd have to rip up the mic and blow him off the stage area. It's not braggin' if you can back it up.5) "I Try" by Macy Gray Sometimes, there's just nothing better than watching a dude who can't sing get all into a song normally sang by a chick, but he's doing it in a way that isn't like he's a drag queen in the making or anything. Secret's out...I love this song. And I think it's sexy. And I feel sexy when I sing it. Even if it looks like the least sexiest thing goin'. Having a deep singing voice at times really pays off.6) "So What'cha Want" by the Beastie Boys I know this is sorta cheating, and I don't care if I've told this story billions of times...once more isn't gonna ruin it. I've never done this at karaoke before. But for Christmas one year, I bought my ex's kids Rockband for their Xbox. Ok, that's a lie. I say I bought it for them, but it was more for me. Reason #15,893 why I'm a shitty person. But I'll tell you what...I have never not nailed this song. Ever. Doing all three parts, solo. I'm a beast (again, not braggin'). GPC only had "Hey Ladies", which is mad hard to do and usually turns into a mess with three people, let alone by yourself. But "So What'cha Want"? Flawless.7) "Pour Some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard Sometimes it's not about how well you sing, but what kind of show you put on. And I could probably count on one hand the number of times I've rocked this, but the true test of knowing when I'm shitfaced at karaoke is me requesting this and strutting like I'm actually in an 80's hair band, like I'm some sorta David Lee Roth/Steven Tyler hybrid who just stepped off the emo bus into 1986. I'm 5'6" tall and I'm pretty sure I have no business ever dancing with a microphone stand while freakin' chicks I don't even know who have prolly left their middle school daughters home alone on a Friday night so they could have too many shots and get loud when someone sings along to something they danced to at their prom. Contrary to popular belief, there are some mornings when it's ok to wake up alone and still consider yourself lucky.8) "Faith" by Limp Bizkit Everyone has phases in their lives they'd like to take back, or at least mildly regret. Limp Bizkit is mine, and thankfully I didn't have to go through it alone. I had a friend that would come up and do this with me all the time at Razzberries, and because we were like 25 back then, we thought we were hilarious...see, the DJ didn't have "Faith" by Limp Bizkit; he had George Michael's version. So we'd put in for it, and then slay like the assholes we were trying to emulate. And somehow, people would look forward to it. And somehow, we would deliver. I almost feel a little gross, typing this now. Oh, the things we did as kids for fun .9) "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond Look, I know it's cheesy...and if you go out to karaoke 100 times, you'll probably hear someone singing this at least 97 of those nights. But it's a great song, and everyone sings along, so it's fun. It's a nice way to end a night. And when I sing it, ok, it's obvious that at many places, in the chorus after Neil gets through with "Sweeeeeet Car-o-line", the crowd goes "dah-dah-dahhh", but with me, after the line "Good times never seemed so good", my crowd would shout "So good! So good! So good!" That's what happens when you're a professional out on the circuit.10) "Don't Look Back In Anger" by Oasis My signature closing number. Last call at the bar, the house lights have come on, and it's almost time to go home (probably 'cuz you have to be at work in five or six hours). Or, sometimes I would drop a $20 in the DJ's tip jar so I could do my own set of four or five songs, have a few drinks, and get home early. Regardless, this was often my final number; a reminder, if you will, that this night should best be remembered fondly. Hey, it's karaoke, not the Grammys. You get what you pay for. I'm so glad I could talk about this...it feels good to just get it all out there in the open. No surprises. If you ever catch me singing to my reflection in the mirror, I promise it isn't because I want to leave you for a younger version of me. It's just another last trip down memory lane for this ol' washed up lounge act. Thank you...you folks have been a great audience! My name is Norb, and I'm available for weddings, bar mitzvahs, and threesomes. Peace, I guess it would be nice, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "Make the perfect playlist for your wedding/wedding reception!"Hi guys...I'm back for a second round today; I can't remember the last time I came up with two entries in one day. At least they're shorter than normal, right? So...weddings. I feel like I've been to a lot of them. Not so many that I'm some kind of expert on them; christ, could you imagine if the only requirement for being a good husband was having attended x-amount of weddings? I wouldn't be on the Mount Rushmore of husbandry or anything nationally, but maybe in my neighborhood at least. But damn...all weddings are pretty much the same (sorry everyone who's been a bride, but your wedding wasn't any special-er than anyone else's). Swap out some faces and backgrounds, and 95% of them are alike. Which is to say...if you're paying someone to plan this stuff for you, you're being ripped off. But please, don't let life stop teaching you lessons. The worst part of these parties (yep, glorified parties...I went there) is definitely the music. Ten percent of the music played at every wedding are songs that I guess you could consider "love songs", in every measurable category. The other ninety percent? Shitty dance-rock from the 70's and 80's, the occasional 90's prom song, "The Macarena", "The Chicken Dance", and that one slow song by the country singer dude whose every other song is basically a metaphor for gettin' chicks drunk and bangin' 'em either in a barn or a backseat, or the backseat of a car parked in a barn. It's amazing that people still pay other people to play non-live music at these gatherings, given all the amazing technology we have at out disposal. Hasn't anyone figured out how much music can fit on an iPod so that it can play for a few hours while some six-year-old whose parents couldn't find a babysitter hits the pause button every couple songs so the old folks don't feel like they're being ignored?  He'll DJ your wedding for half the price of his competitors! Also, wedding receptions are way too fucking long. Why do they have to be so long? No one enjoys them that much...especially the bride and groom (or bride and bride or groom and groom). And as guests, we spend more time waiting in line at the open bar than we actually spend with the quote-unquote happy couple (who, it should be noted again for clarity, aren't all that happy after spending months and years designing every last detail all for it to be over with in a flash and are wondering mid-way through dinner what they could possibly have forgotten to pack for the honeymoon). We're celebrating being able to carry seven gin and tonics back to the table in one trip before the bar closes for dinner rather than celebrating the love two people share for each other. Many women have dreamed about their wedding day since they were littler women. Little women, because girls play with dolls and have tea parties and get their pigtails pulled by boys...but bring up the idea of marriage to a girl in kindergarten and all the sudden she's a god damn grown-up Disney princess with a 3-ring binder full of articulate wedding plans with seating charts, menus, building codes for every fire hall in a 300-mile radius, diagrams, schematics, that mysterious Wu-Tang album that they only pressed one copy of, the original Mona Lisa, and a pre-nup. Dudes just show up and hope they remember which three letters are in "I do" after spending all morning drinkin' with their buddies...bonus points if they're clean-shaven and their shirt is buttoned correctly. This is the most important day of a bride's life. Don't let her fool you by saying some shit like "the day I graduated from college" or "the birth of my kid(s)" or "that night I broke outta prison". This is what they've lived their whole lives for, and they're not gonna let you ruin one god-forsaken second of it. Oh, they might throw you a bone and let you narrow down the dinner options from 12 choices to 5, or "put you in charge of the music" ( - see the point above about all the music at weddings being the same anyway), but nothing about this day has anything to do with you besides your last name maybe becoming hers (and that's not even that popular of an option anymore). That's why I've decided that if/when I get married (I know, I can't believe I'm still single either ), it's gonna be to someone who isn't concerned about the actual wedding reception. I realize that that's probably like, I dunno, three women, maybe four, and perhaps I've been too picky about this whole marriage concept in the first place, but I always assumed that if two people loved each other a whole lot, it didn't matter how they spent one Saturday night so long as they had the rest of their lives together. Silly me. But anyway, sure, me and my lucky lady, we'll have a nice dinner, we'll shake some hands, give some hugs, have a few turns on the dance floor, and then we're gonna make like John and Yoko and not get outta bed for a whole week. And to think there are people out there who actually believe they're the lucky ones!  So here's the playlist I'm submitting. None of the same crap you can hear at every other wedding. Seriously, if you need to dance to "It's Raining Men", go to someone else's wedding, or homecoming, or a gay bar. Ugh...why are most of the songs played at weddings so decidedly unromantic? There is not, never was, and never will be, anything cute or sexy or lovey-dovey about line dancing...all the "Cha Cha Slide" proves is that you can follow directions, like an adult "Hokey Pokey" fueled by wine. Fuck that. Don't like it? Hey, just be glad the wifey and I didn't make you pay for your own plate at the all-you-can-eat Chinese Buffet (and they count the silverware there, so don't think you can shove some in your pockets in lieu of "favors"). 1) "From Out Of Nowhere" by Faith No More If any part of tradition needs to be adhered to, then this can be the first dance, or the song that we enter to, or whatever. No choreographed bullshit that people waste all their time on (remember when people didn't spend hours watching videos of that nonsense on YouTube? Man, those were simpler times). Just a straight-ahead, churning number that grandma can mosh to. 2) "Love Buzz" by Nirvana This is where it all began for me...when I knew that I was destined to DJ my own wedding. You know that feeling you get the first time you have a crush on someone; that tingly-jingle in your belly? The flutter in your heart that isn't a result of your Ritalin? When I heard this song, I knew it was meant to be. My maybe-future wife...she'll understand.3) "All I Need" by Method Man (featuring Mary J. Blige) For real. Love isn't just roses and unicorns and brides in white. Sometimes it's grimy, and bodily fluids get exchanged, and someone has to claim the wet spot. Not all romances come straight outta the Sinatra diaries or look like the main characters rode cleanly on horseback into happily ever after. Why do we place so much emphasis on the ideas of what we think romance is supposed to be?4) "Getting By With It" by Reggie And The Full Effect I love this song because the piano is so bouncy and fun. People like bouncy and fun at weddings, right? This video had 604 views as of my typing this entry. I'll bet at least 604 people got married yesterday. Something's not right here you guys, and this time it's not me. Plus, the chorus is totally something two people in love with each other should say to their partners more often.5) "Happymess" by Atmosphere Time to slow it down a little, kids...this is a couples skate only! This song is so adorable in the most not-adorable way, like two people who you probably thought will never get married are gonna look so sweet dancin' to it at their reception. I told my ex-girlfriend we were definitely playing this at our party. Did I mention I'm very single right now?6) "Still Remains" by Stone Temple Pilots I'm not sure there's a more outright declaration of your absolute love for another human being than "Take a bath; I'll drink the water that you leave". Sometimes we give Scott Weiland too much credit for his batshit heroin habit, and not enough attention for his batshit lyrics. 7) "You're My Heart" by LL Cool J Another slow jam for all the old people in the house...many of you are too young to remember a time when Uncle L made records that didn't suck. I was just a lovestruck boy when this song came out, having gone through that awkward phase in life when people have feelings (it's the worst...I'm so glad it's over). Seriously...I might've been 12 or 13 at the time, and I think I've recently moved past all that. 8) "Wishlist" by Pearl Jam Ok, I had to stuff one sorta mainstream song into the playlist just to prove I'm not anti-romance or anything. I've got some, ummm, well, let's not get too carried away now. Geez.9) "Grow Old With You" by Adam Sandler Adam Sandler movies have sucked ass for at least the last decade, but ya gotta admit The Wedding Singer was pretty good...and I'm not so heartless that I couldn't be moved by this moment. Hell, if I knew how to play guitar and could stand flying and do both at the same time and wanted to be on a plane at the same time with some girl I was madly in love with while she was running off with someone else, I'd totally do this!10) "Kiss Me, I'm Shitfaced" by Dropkick Murphys Weddings are supposed to be fun, for everyone, and if you haven't had a good time by the time we're ready to get on with the next phase of family-makin', then my friends, that's not mine and the missus' faults. Know what I'm sayin'? And maybe you'll meet someone during this song, and someday you'll get hitched too.Like I said, I've been to more than a couple of these things in my day. I've seen some stuff. I guarantee you, this wouldn't even be close to the worst wedding in history...but then again, I'm pretty sure nothing will ever top (or bottom...your call) this amazing Pennsylvanian wedding reception . Call me crazy (and many of you have, or will shortly). Personally, I don't think I'm asking for all that much here. I think what I'm looking for pales in comparison to the demands it seems society places on women and their expected role in the union between them and the men (or other women) who love them. Children are being raised now by a society that asks so much more of them...I ask you: Why? Why can't it all be more simple? After all, the people we may choose to spend the rest of our life with may not always stick around, but the memory of playing whatever you damn well please at that wedding will always be there   . Peace, would you believe me, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "We're close enough to Halloween to start making a Halloween playlist, right? "What's up y'all? I realize this post is late, but you'll have that...I was all set yesterday, with my playlist all ready to go earlier than normal, because I wanted to catch "Invalid Item" (you can still watch Elle - on hiatus 's contestant run...I give her a ton of credit for trying, because those questions were hard) but then I managed to lose all sense of motivation I had earlier in the day. And that kinda sucks, because I feel like I was gaining momentum as the "Invalid Item" carried on...I'd been doing, in my opinion, some solid blogging on consecutive days (you won't hear me say that often). Hopefully I can get this down quickly, check out today's prompt, watch some football (go Bills!), and then swing through today's prompt as well. I'm not much for Halloween parties. I've only dressed up a few times in my adult life. I'm a firm believer in the "all or nothing", go-big-or-go-home style of doing things, and that doesn't mesh well with most of the rest of my lazy, don't-give-a-shit attitude. Staying home and drinking beer > going out and drinking beer...cheaper, less potential for idiot contact, and way less work (unless you count putting any type of clothing on as work). Kurt Cobain in his Leonard Cohen afterworld... and yes, that was 100% my real hair. But just because I'm not into the adult version of Mr. Dressup , that doesn't mean I don't know how to curate a Halloween party soundtrack. As much as I'd love to go with some themed good-time monster mash classics, you know I can't just play what you'd normally hear everywhere else...my selection randomness is the reason my parties would be phenomenal (well that, and my propensity for becoming unhinged if hard liquor is involved) should I ever get back into the party-throwing scene. However, just for the homie ~Minja~ , I'll drop a Beastie Boys track here because October 31st is Mike D's date of birth...but otherwise, for my tracklisting, I went mostly for the creepout factor. A wacked-out haunted house vibe, I guess. There's also thirteen songs...mainly because I couldn't settle on ten, and thirteen's unlucky if you're superstitious . Let us begin...1) "Hexagram" by Deftones Fast, heavy at times, with seatbelt-jerking-you-back-in-a-car-crash breakdowns...and Chino's blood-curdling wail. If you tried that scream at home, you'd blow out your eardrums and your vocal cords. Try it in a haunted house though and you might stand a chance of being heard.2) "I'm A Monster" by Ours Most monsters in mythology were once good people who were done wrong, usually by someone else's painful misdeeds, or a scientific fuck-up, or, most unfortunately, the death of a person close to them that they couldn't prevent. They channel that hurt into causing others immeasurable distress, because it feels like to them that's all they know. The falsetto here provides an almost contrasting, human quality to the narrator's words.3) "Psychotic Girl" by The Black Keys An updated take on muddy blues rock isn't scary or creepy, but psychotic girls can be. I've never been more afraid of anyone as I've been in the moment that I've realized I've done a woman wrong and that she'll stop at nothing to inflict physical pain on me to make up for the anguish she's feeling inside. Gentlemen, consider yourselves warned. Bonus: I could almost see some ratty, aged carny plucking this out on a banjo in front of a cheap thrills-type of quote-unquote haunted house.4) "Stagger Lee" by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds Cave could sing the phone book and still make it sound menacing. An album titled Murder Ballads ...it conjures up images of, well, murder. And in this particular case, it's not your average random act of violence. 5) "Tarantulove" by Hawksley Workman Some folks are creeped out by spiders; tarantulas can be terrifying. I've grown fearlful of love at times, because it feels like it has eight giant furry arms and legs that are trying to suffocate and kill me eight different ways. This song was my very first introduction to Hawksley, and when played live with slightly more distorted vocals (as if they were sung to you by a stranger calling you on the telephone) you're not sure if his lurching guitar-walk is a genuine modern Canadian blues strut or if you should start running in fear of what's coming.6) "Bone House" by The Dead Weather Ya know that b-movie that you bought for $3.99 off the drug store's random dvd rack that's supposed to be a horror film but you're positive it's not scary because it's so cheap and the picture on the front looks fake, but then you watch it and it creeps you the fuck out for days? Personally, I don't know what that feels like because I'm pretty emotionless and dead inside, but if that film had a soundtrack, The Dead Weather would be on it prominently...not because they're scary, but if this song caught you at the wrong time it might make you a little more wary of your surroundings.7) "Ghost Dance Deluxe" by Felt I had to slide some hip hop into the mix...and this song has a little bit of an ominous tone at the beginning, even if the lyrics veer into some corny ol' Will Smith territory.8) "Freddie's Dead" by Curtis Mayfield I love the low brass notes...they balance out Mayfield's falsetto nicely, and might be the toughest, funkiest bass there is. Old-school badassery, y'all.9) "I'm Afraid Of Americans" by David Bowie (with Trent Reznor)" Personally, I wouldn't say this song instilled a fear in me of Americans so much as it did a distrust and a healthy dislike for most of them (and I'm one of them; just as bad at times too). You know what they say...anxiety starts at home .10) "Bloody Murderer" by Cursive A brief carnival ride ending, I'm sure, in an awkward and untimely fate. Cursive's so great in these situations.11) "Catacombs" by At The Drive In When I was growing up there was some charity that partnered with some artistic group of some sort, and every year they did something called "The Haunted Catacombs", which was a series of rooms that represented something scary and psychologically troubling, if I remember correctly. At least, that's what my memory wants me to think whenever I hear the word catacomb. It was one of those things that wasn't scary in retrospect, but for like five minutes afterwards you're wondering if you shit your pants because you're so full of fear that you can't feel your legs after some hidden zombie thing has wrapped an entire palm around your thick calf.12) "Alone Down There" by Modest Mouse I don't generally think of Modest Mouse as being "creepy horror flick music", but there's an eerie, fuck-with-your-head quality to this brief song. Maybe it's the light-heavy-light delivery, or the fact that it kinda reminds me of my grandmother's basement when I was a really little kid...those old stone basements with lots of little rooms off the main stretch that ran from the back of the house to the front that were begging to be explored but I was too chickenshit to go it alone.13) "Climbing Up The Walls" by Radiohead Put on a pair of headphones, turn off all the lights so that you're in complete pitch-black darkness, and play this at a volume that's loud- slightly more uncomfortable than how you'd normally listen to anything- and tell me there isn't a certain freakiness about it. The lyrics alone tell a grim story, summed up by a narrator who's "got the smell of a local man who's got the loneliest feeling". That's the kind of stuff Sunday night network television movies were made of when you were too young to stay up that late. Ok...I get it, that this may not be the end-all, be-all, scariest, creepiest run of Halloween party tuneage. Maybe if I were putting together the soundtrack of a kinda lame slasher flick though...maybe then this list might work. Ahhh, well, it's enjoyable for my tastes at least. That said, I'm gonna edit and post this, check out today's prompt, and then duck outta here for a little bit to watch some football. Hopefully I'll be able to get a list down while that's happening, and I'll have the ambition to write another entry later on so I can at least say I'm caught up on one project . Peace, I'm afraid I can't help it, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "For day 3, you'll need to make a playlist for a tea party with the Queen of England. Good luck.  "Hey everyone...all I can say is wow. Where did Charlie ~ pull this prompt out of? Like, I've seen lots of prompts. I have access to more prompts than I may ever know what to do with, and for six months and change out of the year I run a blogging contest that requires me issuing them. I'm an occasional participant in two other blogging groups. I see prompts at least six days a week. All kinds...difficult, easy, silly, straight-forward, personal, ambivalent, saucy, you name it. And I've probably come up with some of the dumbest, most puzzling ones in the last year. I'm not ashamed to admit it. But this one? I'm scratching my head. Before we continue here, will someone please give the ol' lady a poke and make sure she's still alive even? It must be murder on your joints when you've been The Queen of someplace since 1659. My friends, I'm a person who writes a few sporadically funny blog entries each month, and most of them have nothing to do with politics. I don't know how monarchies work, or what the function of a Royal is over a Prime Minister or a President or a Dictator or the chick at the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru. I don't really even want to know (no offense to my friends across the Atlantic who might be interested in wanting me to know). I can barely understand sometimes how the government in my own country operates...I can't even begin to fathom the incredible levels of dysfunction that would overtake our already-flawed system if we had to elect a president and respect a kingdom on the same grounds. I know they're different and all, but I'm 40 and I don't get it. It'd be like trying to explain to me what a fight between the two highest-value Pokemon cards would be like: I don't care and it has nothing to do with me and if it ever begins to look like it might, someone needs to intervene, and quickly. As of 2014 the United States population is at roughly 320 million....like, five times as many people as the United Kingdom has. That means- between those two areas alone, and not including Asia, Africa, Australia, Canada, South America, or anywhere else- that there are at least 384,786,724 people that are more qualified and more deserving than yours truly to have a nice little sit-down with the Queen Mother herself. I don't even know if I know her name...it's Elizabeth, right? Haven't they all been Elizabeths, once the country ran out of Henrys? Those last two sentences should tell you all you need to know as to why I'm unfit for such a meeting (just in case you might've, ya know, been on the fence about it before, or something). Maybe I should take back what I said about me needing an intervention if me and Europe is ever a thing...better get the ol' broad checked out from top to tail. Anyway, I should probably get on with my playlist, before the CIA and Scotland Yard decide they want to take a look at my Google search history before and during the composing of this entry. Red flags are probably going up all over the place; some with stars and stripes, and some with Union Jacks. If you don't hear from me after awhile, assume I choked on a crumpet...whatever that is. Maybe I'll catch a case of the crumpets, or get run over by one, or attacked and imprisoned by one. When it comes to England, I'm afraid I'm dumber than a Spice Girl. Cue the "Countdown To Armageddon" ...this time around, the revolution will not be televised. 1) "Don't Make Me A Target" by Spoon Let me reiterate: I have no business dealing with the Queen of England. And I'm also not gonna pander to her. I don't know what she likes and doesn't like. She's made more than a few shitty, aging musicians Sirs or Knights or whatever she does with a sword that isn't the chopping off of their head, so she can just get over herself and let me control the Buckingham Palace (probably named after Lindsey ) sound system for an hour. She'll probably make me bring my own cup of Tim Horton's too. Also on the list of things I expect out of this meeting: I better be gettin' home safely.2) "Save Me" by The Tea Party Don't think I wasn't tempted to make this entire list ten Tea Party songs. If Led Zeppelin stopped making music right after "Kashmir", became Canadian, and reformed in mid-'90's, they would be The Tea Party. Not a bunch of nutjob politician-wannabes, or Bostonians who can't stop reminding everyone how great their city is, but a rock band that doesn't suck. I also have no real basis (like most of the other songs in this playlist) for picking this specific tune, only than I had one in mind but this came up in my YouTube search because I'm lazy and refused to enter the song title I originally intended.3) "Working Class Hero" by John Lennon Not because today's his birthday, either. If I'm gonna get an audience with someone who has some pull, I don't care if they forget who I am or why I came there five minutes after I left, but in that time I'm gonna be damn sure they understand while I'm directly in front of them at a comfortable speaking distance that human beings aren't just anonymous pawns at their disposal. We don't all get the luxury of sipping tea with our pinkies pointed toward the ceiling. Some of us use both hands, and still don't get enough.4) "My Name Is" by Eminem A last-minute addition/change to my original lineup, based on Eminem's presidential portrayal and his inability to figure out which Spice Girl he wants to impregnate. She will have no choice but to see how the other half 99% of us lives.5) "Margaret On The Guillotine" by Morrissey No better way of showing off my inability to distinguish between politics and royalty than including this gorgeous little tribute to Margaret Thatcher, the late UK Prime Minister. How old is the Queen again? Pretty sure if she ate like an average American, she would've died at least twenty years ago from some combination of heart disease, diabetes, and Take That .6) "Kingdom Of Doom" by The Good, The Bad, And The Queen I haven't listened to this album in years, and I had to skim through most of the lyrics online and I'm still not sure I've found the most suitable song from it to include here. In fact, I think the only reason I'm including it here is because of the line "Drink all day 'cuz the country's at war". I don't think Her Majesty (is it right to capitalize that? I don't even know) would be aware her country was at war if 10,000 soldiers were stationed outside her bedroom window, much less the wars everyday people like you and me only Britisher are fighting. 7) "Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon" by Urge Overkill Ok, someone has to say it, so it may as well be me. Queenie, sweetheart, don't you think it's time you, ummmm, took a lover? Someone to ride out your last couple thousand days with (c'mon, if she's not dead yet she probably isn't goin' anywhere for another couple decades). Someone to clean the cobwebs out of the closet, wink-wink-nudge-nudge. Like the saying I just made up goes: "Every queen needs a king, or a same-sex lover whose relationship won't be recognized by the rest of her family and will have no bearing whatsoever on the throne-ownership."8) "Paper Planes" by Street Sweeper Social Club So you're tellin' me that there's this sweet li'l ol' lady that pretty much has all the power and respect and all that, and she doesn't have a corrupt bone in her body? I don't believe that, nope. Not for one day. You don't get to be so powerful for so long without at least chopping off a few fingers at the knuckle. Street gangs, mafias, corporations, political parties, royal families...they're all driven by the same things: ego, greed and profit. "We're not a gang; we're a motherfuckin' social club"...that's what all the ladies down at the senior citizens' center used to look at me like every time I'd win a game of Bingo on their turf. Luckily my grandmother's sister was a member, or I'm pretty sure they would've tried castrating me with a walker on the way out over $15.9) "This Is England" by The Clash There are better songs that come to mind when you think of The Clash...but I'm sure you and I both also have different views of England than Queen Elizabeth does. I don't think I was sent on this mission to be some kind of peace-keeping diplomat or some shit...if I'm going on someone's outlandish idea of an overseas meeting with a very, very important person, it's not because they think I'mma give her a backrub and trade chocolate chip cookie recipes. They want me stirrin' the pot, ya hear?10) "Follow Me Around" by Radiohead How do you say "I'm gonna need bail money" in Britainese? I think I skipped class that day when we were supposed to learn about it in Global History Studies. Not because I offended the Queen, but because I'm posting an unauthorized remix of a beloved, unreleased Radiohead song (the version on their live album doesn't count as "unreleased"...well, it does, but not for my purposes). I believe this is some kind of act of treason against the good people of England. Ok, add another ten songs to the master playlist of drivin' down the wrong side of the road, sippin' on tea with the Queen, laid back, with my mind on my pound sterling and my pound sterling on my mind. If you can still read this entry come Monday morning on the east coast of the US, then I haven't been declared some kind of rogue agent out to disrupt the sanctity of the European Union...but Lizzy, if you're ever lonely, don't hesitate to hit me up boo. Maybe after some tea we can grab a drink down at "Invalid Item" , and I can show you my Big Ben  . What? Don't all Americans refer to their clocks like that? I ain't tryin' to be king of nothin' but hearts. Peace, she said save me, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
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