If you don't know why I'm suddenly getting a new blog: Read the last two posts here.
Post #30. Here's my new blog: Nathaniel Arthur
We the animals take control...
13 years ago
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Almost There...
It's loading, my brand new blog, it's loading and it's not on blogspot. Guess, for once, I beat Michelangelo to the punch.
I'm making this post just because that way, my next post is #30. I like even numbers to end things.
I'm making this post just because that way, my next post is #30. I like even numbers to end things.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
There For Myself = There By Myself ... Or Not
Prelude and Catharsis
I'm not over you. I'm never over you. I will always, always, feel about you the way I felt when we were together. The fact that we were never together, is part of the reason I often write songs. I never actually had you, I probably never will either. The difference isn't how I feel about you, it's how I choose to live with it. The difference is I'm not a coward and I don't run from my feelings, so telling you this I expect two things: Either you'll feel an aggrandizement that doesn't belong to you, or you'll be an uncomfortable wreck. This is why I don't specify who you are. Except, you know who you are... you're everyone I've ever met.
This pretty much summarizes my relationship to people. Everyone I've met, one way or another, I've fallen in love with them. They usually don't fall for me though. I've either felt pretty used or pretty stupid. This was the whole point of having a blog, to express those feelings I get all the time where the people around me make no sense. On the other hand, no matter how difficult or volatile I become, this period of my life has been characterized by some pretty strong support from hands I've never expected...
This is to the people who have been there for me, you know who you are. And if you're reading this, and feel like you're left out, then you'll know... you'll finally know for sure, that you weren't there for me, otherwise you'd identify with what I just said.
So to you who were there for me. Thank you.
The rest, I appreciate the effort, and even your lack thereof. If you circled my hemisphere that was enough for me. Was.
I launched my first blog due to the first person who hurt me immensely, then I launched disco stick because I felt about as used as a lube tube in an orgy by what I back then deemed a cold and heartless woman whom I now consider a joke. Eventually this blog became more about other people, people who became much more important to me. One of them though, who was crucial in some ways to this blog's development, is gone. I recall that, while I wrote this blog, there was only one other person in the world I truly felt was like me, got me, had a similar DNA code.
Now I know how unlike each other we are. And at first I felt very alone, and now I'm no longer wallowing. It was a dream, very much like a high school crush of a dream, to have someone so similar to me alive and breathing and surviving alongside me with all the perils of this universe. In my dream she was compassionate and caring, wounded but not damaged goods. In my dream she was a flower that kept wilting in the glare of flashlights, always afraid to stand in the sun because somehow she feared truly blooming. In my dream, the moment this flower touched the sun it would grow beautifully.
It's amazing how powerful the mind is, and how easily we over-embellish.
The one in my dream was everything I lived for in barely a few days. We never spoke too frankly because I never thought it necessary, and people like us, who I thought was "us", didn't need clear words, just clear motives and intentions. I thought she knew. So to her, the one in my dream, I dedicate this song.
To the real one, the one who she is, the one who turned off the light switch the moment dawn came, the one who dictates futures she can't dish out, the one who discards moments once they're over, who for all her worth can't treasure the good, the one who gives the front seat to the bad habits, the one who thrives in flashlights, the one who isn't like me, I respect you're someone else, I respect your life is something else, I agree you should find it, but I'm afraid I don't know you, and I'm sorry but this song is not actually for you.
You can listen to it here. Thank you to members of the band Acronym, particularly my good friend Michelangelo for lending me their talented hands, the instrumentation is rough but still exactly what I envisioned. And yes, that is me singing, as you can see I'm not exactly the singing type but, well hell, you know how it is.
Now for the ending:
I'm going to do a blog makeover. I guess it's time. Welcome new phase of my life. So I'm going to write a goodbye letter to Disco Stick.
Ahem,
---
"The Times They Are A-Changing" - Bob Dylan
I'm not over you. I'm never over you. I will always, always, feel about you the way I felt when we were together. The fact that we were never together, is part of the reason I often write songs. I never actually had you, I probably never will either. The difference isn't how I feel about you, it's how I choose to live with it. The difference is I'm not a coward and I don't run from my feelings, so telling you this I expect two things: Either you'll feel an aggrandizement that doesn't belong to you, or you'll be an uncomfortable wreck. This is why I don't specify who you are. Except, you know who you are... you're everyone I've ever met.
This pretty much summarizes my relationship to people. Everyone I've met, one way or another, I've fallen in love with them. They usually don't fall for me though. I've either felt pretty used or pretty stupid. This was the whole point of having a blog, to express those feelings I get all the time where the people around me make no sense. On the other hand, no matter how difficult or volatile I become, this period of my life has been characterized by some pretty strong support from hands I've never expected...
I'm grateful to you. Very much so. You're everything to me.
This is to the people who have been there for me, you know who you are. And if you're reading this, and feel like you're left out, then you'll know... you'll finally know for sure, that you weren't there for me, otherwise you'd identify with what I just said.
So to you who were there for me. Thank you.
The rest, I appreciate the effort, and even your lack thereof. If you circled my hemisphere that was enough for me. Was.
I launched my first blog due to the first person who hurt me immensely, then I launched disco stick because I felt about as used as a lube tube in an orgy by what I back then deemed a cold and heartless woman whom I now consider a joke. Eventually this blog became more about other people, people who became much more important to me. One of them though, who was crucial in some ways to this blog's development, is gone. I recall that, while I wrote this blog, there was only one other person in the world I truly felt was like me, got me, had a similar DNA code.
Now I know how unlike each other we are. And at first I felt very alone, and now I'm no longer wallowing. It was a dream, very much like a high school crush of a dream, to have someone so similar to me alive and breathing and surviving alongside me with all the perils of this universe. In my dream she was compassionate and caring, wounded but not damaged goods. In my dream she was a flower that kept wilting in the glare of flashlights, always afraid to stand in the sun because somehow she feared truly blooming. In my dream, the moment this flower touched the sun it would grow beautifully.
It's amazing how powerful the mind is, and how easily we over-embellish.
The one in my dream was everything I lived for in barely a few days. We never spoke too frankly because I never thought it necessary, and people like us, who I thought was "us", didn't need clear words, just clear motives and intentions. I thought she knew. So to her, the one in my dream, I dedicate this song.
To the real one, the one who she is, the one who turned off the light switch the moment dawn came, the one who dictates futures she can't dish out, the one who discards moments once they're over, who for all her worth can't treasure the good, the one who gives the front seat to the bad habits, the one who thrives in flashlights, the one who isn't like me, I respect you're someone else, I respect your life is something else, I agree you should find it, but I'm afraid I don't know you, and I'm sorry but this song is not actually for you.
Lucy
I've had more than my share of girlfriends,
and don't ever care to keep them for more than a year,
but tonight while safely asleep I've fallen into this dream
Where Lucy and I are together forever
A love far too good to be true
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
We socialize often times in our own corner of the party's audience
chatting with each other's exes and friends we made love with
circling the crowd, speaking very loud
So we can find each other, steal a kiss and cop a feel in front of everyone
At the end of the night we're stable
and able to keep things from falling apart
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
I feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
My heartbeat's tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away to an alarming end
To an alarming end
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
I've had more than my share of girlfriends,
and don't ever care to keep them for more than a year,
but tonight while safely asleep I've fallen into this dream
Where Lucy and I are together forever
A love far too good to be true
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
We socialize often times in our own corner of the party's audience
chatting with each other's exes and friends we made love with
circling the crowd, speaking very loud
So we can find each other, steal a kiss and cop a feel in front of everyone
At the end of the night we're stable
and able to keep things from falling apart
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
I feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
My heartbeat's tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away to an alarming end
To an alarming end
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
You can listen to it here. Thank you to members of the band Acronym, particularly my good friend Michelangelo for lending me their talented hands, the instrumentation is rough but still exactly what I envisioned. And yes, that is me singing, as you can see I'm not exactly the singing type but, well hell, you know how it is.
Now for the ending:
I'm going to do a blog makeover. I guess it's time. Welcome new phase of my life. So I'm going to write a goodbye letter to Disco Stick.
Ahem,
Dear Disco Stick:
You were cute while you lasted, with your green hat and your lost clovers, but now you've stopped running after the rainbow and we must part ways. Once upon a time, before you became the Disco Stick, you were just the Nathan Satan, and he too was looking for the pot of gold.
It was lucky that both your forces didn't collide, that you Disco Stick could live without the devilish Demon, but eventually, you knew this day would come. Comedians eventually bow at the audience, tip their hats and head backstage.
It was a fun ride Disco Stick, I will miss your mellow ways, I will miss your girlfriend and her sister Mary Jane, I will miss the cocktail of pills and cheap thrills. Overall, it was a good run my friend, through you I met several girls of my life, lost some, kept some, learned some. I met some of the men of my life too. And like a justice scale, when I paid more attention to one side, the other one suffered for it.
I got it. Thank you Disco Stick, and even the elusive Nathan Satan. We'll probably see each other down the road, when I snap and become depressive or childish. But I think I found my balance. She and Him. They have a name. I might or might not know them. But once I do... Finder's keepers.
---
"The Times They Are A-Changing" - Bob Dylan
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
i <3 GG MIA & Kyouya Cat
I think I can be the new Gossip Guy. Feels like everybody's all over the place these days and the dude set about reporting it is on vacation. I'll fill in.
Maybe he actually has a life. And the rest of us, by us I mean, the confused lost souls a la Hitachiin brothers, we don't have said life.
I was catching up on everyone's things. Marie is still heartbroken, I'm sending her some salve with a really cool Courtney Love CD, because nothing like girl power from a woman who lost the love of her life to drugs to cheer someone up... I think?
Caterina is off avoiding the love(s)? of HER life. But that's to me the epitome of a free spirit. So I like her like that.
Kyle realized he's found the woman he wanted to wake up next to and has become so whipped he gives Sparkle Edward a run for his money.
Vincenzo gave Madeleine an orange bead that she has on her arm and protects like an heirloom. Huh. Who'd have thought? Something must have happened there we don't even know about.
Caroline is off on an ego-trip thinking I give a damn about what she has to say to me. The media player with her orgasm on loop is not even one of the highlights off my blog. Goes to show some people do live in the clouds... while their husbands carry on sexually charged verbal matches with their own best friends.
Speaking of Elena, she's turned into a sleek, cool, calm and collected Cheetah. Now, I know everyone's already "in love" and all, but my guess is there's still some game in the hunting grounds. These rich people need to get a job.
Lucille is sorry she's done half the things she's done in life, including "using" me. Which she did. So long as I was useful, so long as I made her feel better, she kept me around, the moment she could "pull herself together" and no longer needed me, she wanted to suddenly tell me what was best for me. I get it that she wanted to do what was best for her, my respects to that, but when someone tells me that they have my best interest at heart, in a decision I have no say over... yeah that doesn't translate to me as being for "my best interest." It translates to: I've figured things out, now get out of my hair and here's a good excuse as to why.
Well I forgive her already. Why? Because I guess I just don't care enough either way. I had an idea of her, of the kind of friends we could be, and it got dashed pretty quickly, so now I'm seeing people for who they really are and I guess I should be thankful? I'm glad I met Lucille, even when I thought she was like me and ended up being nothing like me. We both learned something from the other. I hope. At least if anything, not to assume we know each other... or even who we're supposed to be with.
Which, according to her was, at least in my case, with the Queen of Ice.
But you know what?
On page 124, Maid Marion met Robin Hood.
When cold hits metal it becomes steel. And that's one hard ass material that can cut right through you, or make some damn fine jewelery. But when cold hits nature it just freezes. No matter how much a tree longs to see the winter, its leaves wither before the first frost bites its root.
Some people just belong together. And some just don't. We can't fight fate. Even I know that.
Me? I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham...
Who said it best? "There's a difference between those who are in love, and those who just say it". Jason Weiss, man, you've got some quotables, you will go on my tweet of fame when I reach some bulls-eye number like 10,000. And this is the man in question.
I didn't really see it coming. And Christian did, because he's a witch... He's totally a witch.
I don't know. I'm never sure where I fit into things. But I'm a Percy. That's gotta stand for something.
I feel calm about things too, like, there's something that's suddenly shifted into place. Isn't that weird? My life has never been more hectic and everything seems just right... even the fact that some people I thought belonged to me... just don't.
I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham. And everyone knows where he ends up at the end of the movie.
As for everyone that thought they had me and my love life figured out?
But hey, one thing that's cool about all these new arrangements... I'm back in the playing field, and this is aiming to turn into one hot and wild safari.
Maybe he actually has a life. And the rest of us, by us I mean, the confused lost souls a la Hitachiin brothers, we don't have said life.
I was catching up on everyone's things. Marie is still heartbroken, I'm sending her some salve with a really cool Courtney Love CD, because nothing like girl power from a woman who lost the love of her life to drugs to cheer someone up... I think?
Caterina is off avoiding the love(s)? of HER life. But that's to me the epitome of a free spirit. So I like her like that.
Kyle realized he's found the woman he wanted to wake up next to and has become so whipped he gives Sparkle Edward a run for his money.
Vincenzo gave Madeleine an orange bead that she has on her arm and protects like an heirloom. Huh. Who'd have thought? Something must have happened there we don't even know about.
Caroline is off on an ego-trip thinking I give a damn about what she has to say to me. The media player with her orgasm on loop is not even one of the highlights off my blog. Goes to show some people do live in the clouds... while their husbands carry on sexually charged verbal matches with their own best friends.
Speaking of Elena, she's turned into a sleek, cool, calm and collected Cheetah. Now, I know everyone's already "in love" and all, but my guess is there's still some game in the hunting grounds. These rich people need to get a job.
Lucille is sorry she's done half the things she's done in life, including "using" me. Which she did. So long as I was useful, so long as I made her feel better, she kept me around, the moment she could "pull herself together" and no longer needed me, she wanted to suddenly tell me what was best for me. I get it that she wanted to do what was best for her, my respects to that, but when someone tells me that they have my best interest at heart, in a decision I have no say over... yeah that doesn't translate to me as being for "my best interest." It translates to: I've figured things out, now get out of my hair and here's a good excuse as to why.
Well I forgive her already. Why? Because I guess I just don't care enough either way. I had an idea of her, of the kind of friends we could be, and it got dashed pretty quickly, so now I'm seeing people for who they really are and I guess I should be thankful? I'm glad I met Lucille, even when I thought she was like me and ended up being nothing like me. We both learned something from the other. I hope. At least if anything, not to assume we know each other... or even who we're supposed to be with.
Which, according to her was, at least in my case, with the Queen of Ice.
But you know what?
On page 124, Maid Marion met Robin Hood.
When cold hits metal it becomes steel. And that's one hard ass material that can cut right through you, or make some damn fine jewelery. But when cold hits nature it just freezes. No matter how much a tree longs to see the winter, its leaves wither before the first frost bites its root.
Some people just belong together. And some just don't. We can't fight fate. Even I know that.
Me? I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham...
Who said it best? "There's a difference between those who are in love, and those who just say it". Jason Weiss, man, you've got some quotables, you will go on my tweet of fame when I reach some bulls-eye number like 10,000. And this is the man in question.
I didn't really see it coming. And Christian did, because he's a witch... He's totally a witch.
I don't know. I'm never sure where I fit into things. But I'm a Percy. That's gotta stand for something.
I feel calm about things too, like, there's something that's suddenly shifted into place. Isn't that weird? My life has never been more hectic and everything seems just right... even the fact that some people I thought belonged to me... just don't.
I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham. And everyone knows where he ends up at the end of the movie.
As for everyone that thought they had me and my love life figured out?
But hey, one thing that's cool about all these new arrangements... I'm back in the playing field, and this is aiming to turn into one hot and wild safari.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Playing The Angel
If you see me laughing. Assume that my blood is boiling. In the end, I'm glad Lucille DeltA Airlines has decided to "fly" to her own new brand new future. I'm glad she's clear on what she wants and that it ain't sex with me. I'm glad my presence helped her clear herself up, because I strive to make one good deed, one messed up whore at a time.
Ha--fucking--ha.
Caroline used my body and then dumped me for her perfect life. Lucille took it to another level, she didn't even need my body, all she needed was my "essence". Me being "there" was enough, and now she's dumped me for her perfect future.
Though duh she gets to do that. I'm her bro. We're total friends. I know her very well. She's looking out for herself. She wants what's best for herself. Respect to that. I agree. And she thinks she knows what's best for me.
Right?
Flat no. Not a chance. Not even Einstein's neurons could conjure them up. Screw Interpol's deductive training. I'm guessing a conversation that starts with "I'm sorry" never heads in a good direction. And one that discusses along the middle "Aren't you in love with...?" followed by "I don't want to hurt you" is probably sliding further downward on the dumb-assumptions scope. Never mind one that ends in "I'll be there for you" followed by a quick disappearance. Yeah. Hello empty space. Thank you for always being there for me too.
And speaking of flat... I should have a fee. I'll fix you up good for a blow job. You'd think at the very least I'd live to see that. At least Caroline delivered... but Lucille? Oh Lucille, you sly little fox. With your boo-hoo's and your hoo-haa's you slithered under the radar and scored the best of both worlds. Got your friend and ate it too. Kept your body and your dignity, and got off Scot-free from a deal with the devil.
And I got to play the angel. Cause duh, we're such bros! Hell I felt incestuous just looking at your face! Chums like us know each other like a Hollywood Insider! I've got my bitch's back baby! She ma ho! You mess with her an' you be trippin'!
What a hoot!
Erase and Rewind.
Caroline... When the fuck did I establish myself as "Your Ho" material.
Erase and Double Rewind.
Lucille... When the fuck did I establish myself as "Your Bro" material. I'm re-recording all over this history.
Now who's laughing?
No Such Thing As Cute
Redheads tend to dump me. Caroline used me like a disco stick (hence the blog identity) and Lucille went bipolar on my ass (I will, in fact, pay tribute to this in a creative way, to be announced soon). Lucille appears and disappears, (A Peek-a... wait for it...--BOO). One day she decides I'm important, the next she bails. One day I'm telling her I like her, she listens, then somehow she becomes deaf and makes up her own theories of my words, splatters them on the walls of her head and blows me off.
Redheads annoy me, and they don't fucking listen. They're convenient, they get it, they hear you and they only pull what they want, what they need. Redheads dry you up. They're dense females. A certain Duke would know.
Except for one, which I've been decidedly too chicken shit to date. Anna. I like Anna. Anna is good. Anna has a phone number. I should call her. Maybe she's my Rory?
Wow. That was mean, even for me. I'm sorry. I'm not the unapologetic type. When I fuck up, I apologize, always.
Anna is not my Rory, Lucille is not my Caroline and Christian is not my Veronique. I play favorites, I do, temporarily, sporadically, out of control, but measured. I'm too young be so damn serious about everything.
Why does everyone want everything so fucking figured out?
I have intense relationship with men. Michelangelo was my love, and Anna was my first crush. I've grown up since then. I've faced people, life and heaps of shit. I've also discovered gardens, sugar addicts and bartenders.
I have a thin line between me and all the people in my life. I haven't decided which one I'm going to break. I haven't decided if I'm going to reach through that line to one particular girl, or to one particular guy.
Christian is the closest to me right now, because he's my step-brother, so there's more between us than I've ever had with anyone else. He knows though, that there's a side of me saved especially for her. But we don't know who "her" is yet. That girl I plan to become someone else with. That girl that will take my relationships with women from "fucked up" to "intense" in a millisecond. I say this in earnest. I have many faces, but they're all me, one way or another. And each belong to one person in particular. Not all of them belong to a "the one" just yet.
I connected with Christian, quicker and more intensely than with other people. I connect with men, quicker than with women. I have more experience with men emotionally and with women sexually. I've never been the receiving end when it comes to my sexuality, neither with men or women. I give it to them. Always.
I'm not as emotionally developed as I should be at this age. But my asshole development is advanced and quite compounded. I've mastered the art of bullshit to a T. Negative or Positive consequences be damned, so far as I know, that's what I'm allowed to do.
I feel safe with my brother. There's a safe place in my life with him. But there's still a thread, thin threads nobody walks. For all my connection to the man, and I classify him as "the" man, I do not know him that well. I'm not always sure what he's thinking, I'm not always foremost in his thoughts either. There's a part of him that also just belongs to "her". Another woman, as well, that he picks, whomever that is.
We understand each other, what we want out of people, out of life, out of ourselves. Yes, we are connected in a private personal way that is also all our own. There is love in what we have, because Christian does what nobody else does with me, he loves me openly, he takes the risk to express it and let me know it. He gives back. We're friends, we're family, we're like an old married couple on crack.
Then there's "her". That girl I'm undecided about. Then there's "me" and all those secret identities. And then there's redheads, who just fuck with my head and should stick to fucking with themselves. Seriously.
And Veronique, an owl I want to keep in my pocket.
"I'm kind of tired of getting screwed over." That's what I said years ago. Looks like the words caught up with me, cause now nobody's screwing with me. Everyone's a little bit afraid. And you know what? They're right. They should be. Lord knows what I'll do. But I can state something matter of fact: Whatever I'm going to do, it won't be unplanned. When you leave the house looking up at the sky in awe, you don't notice yourself stepping on dog shit. I look to the ground, I see where I'm walking, I gauge my steps. I plan ahead because everyone's a Poodle these days.
I don't have an internal GPS, I don't know what direction anyone wants to take. I don't know how to get to my prefered destination. I just have signs guiding me. Good ol' fashioned human signs.
Right now the street have so many different signs pointing in different directions. Who's to stop me from exploring them all.
I've seen the road, and I can skip the landmines. Caroline and her abusiveness, Veronique and her neurosis, Christian and his camouflage, Michelangelo and his denial, Lucille and her capriciousness... and then there's Anna, who I've yet to call up.
I really should stop being such a chicken shit and call her, but then I'll get to know her. Maybe I like torturing myself with the notion that somewhere out there is a perfect woman for me, a redhead with cute freckles that I've admired since I was 12. That I'll meet up with her when I'm 80 and say "hey chickie... I used to like you when I we were young" and she'll turn to me and say "What do you know old chap, I liked you too" and then we'll hold wrinkly old hands together and smile knowingly, squeezing those last drops of life from our fingers, looking at the horizon and death together thinking "wow... life sure is cute."
But that will never happen. Because when I'm 80 years old I'll resort to drinking Viagra, I'll want to hit up a screeching Veronique to mess with her, I'll want to shut up Lucille's senile whining with some sort of highly inappropriate bondage, I'll want to make illegal pedophilic-looking passes at my own brother (Who, as we've always suspected, turns out to be a vampire for whom at that point I'll look 60 years his senior), I'll want to tease Michelangelo's ear with petulant requests just to make his lover jealous, I'll want to throw my walking stick at Caroline and hope it smacks her droopy ass on the way, heh, at her age, she'd fall over. All a-giggles.
So while I'd love option A. I'd enjoy more an option B. I'm sure from here to the end of my life, a C option will show up and shut me the fuck up. That girl, who is still blurry in mind, will reach out and break the thread that separates us, she'll squeeze her way into my cluttered world, she won't give a damn, she'll have the nerve and the balls to surprise me.. Until then, I guess I won't hope for a cute ending.
But I'm still hoping for a happy one.
Just like women hope for a blue prince, I'm hoping for my devil-in-red princess.
Now where are you, you dumb slore?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Ebb And Flow
Well. Lucille has suddenly disappeared. Apparently she's got a bunch of fashion shows and she's off to get a boyfriend. Girl is fickle dude!
Ima gonna charge my 30 days whether it's now or takes 30 years. It'll be like the Slap Bet on How I Met Your Mother. You'll never know when it's coming.
On the other hand, a huge storm is brewing over by London. I am going to hell. I can't wait for it to just open up and rain on everyone's parade.
I guess there's also a sick sense of pleasure that my predictions go against someone else I know.
But you know. I'm just saying.
Anyway.
Ima gonna charge my 30 days whether it's now or takes 30 years. It'll be like the Slap Bet on How I Met Your Mother. You'll never know when it's coming.
On the other hand, a huge storm is brewing over by London. I am going to hell. I can't wait for it to just open up and rain on everyone's parade.
I guess there's also a sick sense of pleasure that my predictions go against someone else I know.
But you know. I'm just saying.
Anyway.
HOW TO DRINK A BEER
Dude it's easy, just pop the cap and slurp away.
Cheers!
I'm kind of all happy now, because I just added one of my new favorite albums to my blog. It's called "Broken Cities" by See The World (www.seetheworldmusic.com) I don't know what it is about that first song, and another one called "Losing To Win", oh, and "Paintings". I just like the lyrics in general. They sort of remind me of Keane, or Coldplay, only they sound softer, it's just really smooth music.
I know, grunge King Nathaniel, listening to ebb and flow. Hey, at least it's not Hair Metal and Guitar Hero.
Dude it's easy, just pop the cap and slurp away.
Cheers!
I'm kind of all happy now, because I just added one of my new favorite albums to my blog. It's called "Broken Cities" by See The World (www.seetheworldmusic.com) I don't know what it is about that first song, and another one called "Losing To Win", oh, and "Paintings". I just like the lyrics in general. They sort of remind me of Keane, or Coldplay, only they sound softer, it's just really smooth music.
I know, grunge King Nathaniel, listening to ebb and flow. Hey, at least it's not Hair Metal and Guitar Hero.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
