Sunday, August 23, 2009

I Feel:

  • That there's no excuse for prompt, punctual updates.
  • That the previous statement makes me the biggest hypocrite in the world.
  • That if you exclude the concert, the drinking, and the time spent with the Sidekick, I didn't get to spend enough time in Vancouver.
  • That Twitter is both a boon, a distraction, and an addiction.
  • That running 18 miles was the most rewarding solo effort I've done so far.
  • That masturbation, although rewarding, can't be included in that declaration.
  • That for the first time ever, I doubt my ability in regards to running.
  • That looking up random music videos on You Tube is both cathartic and frustrating.
  • That work,being work, is work- but sometimes doesn't feel much like work.
  • That my inability to let go of a song will be my downfall.
  • That reading Love Monkey was almost as good as reading High Fidelity.
  • That I have to re-read some Tom Robbins.


Later.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Cream My Jeans.

I know it's only 14 seconds.
I know there's no lyrics.
I know there isn't even pictures of the band.



But there is the sound of Dave Grhol smashing the shit out of some drums. And if Josh Homme and John Paul Jones can keep up with him, this should be fucking Epic.



Later.