I slept for FOREVER!
This packing shit is ruining me. I wake up exhausted and not very chipper.
Luckily, it's a grade-A stoner-blaring-music job. On it!
Note: Packing requires dance/club music, hip-hop, and anything to which you can strip... unless you strip to soft jazz, in which case, I will not be making it rain.
These songs are so much musical herpes. Scratch that itch.
Get out of my head encephalitic hook!!!
(I literally woke up with the lines "Sober girls around me; they keep acking like they drunk" ringing in my head as though an oddly libertine mantra
God-voice:"Awake and go about your day... but before you do, carry this with you throughout all of your travels: 'That 808 bump make you put yo hands up!'"
Me:"Thanks a ton, God-voice."
God-voice:"You're welcome, Jerk.")
(note: subtle but integral difference between god-voice and voice-of-god. The first is your interior narraration, your first person singular... the second is a queef. Ok... subtle was litotes.
I GOT TO USE THE WORD "LITOTES" TODAY PARADE! I win at you, life!
This is my new favorite song: "We all play synth!"
Haha. Really apropos to the original.
Because bitches is scandalous. The best part is around 0:53, where Xhibit provides a dissertation on anthropological practices "common in cali." For some reason, the egregious exposition makes my heart go "ba-dum-dum. :
Nostalgia... why are the connotative memories of people dropping cherries in my car and my window getting broken out (at a warehouse rave) and having this C.D. stolen. The drive back was 100% freezing what with the thief having apparently had a penchant for our letterman jackets and all of my C.D.s but for Superdrag and Bob Dylan. Seriously.. "hey, gary.. instead of ripping off EVERYTHING in the car, how about we leave only two totally unrelated Cds so as to provide something to ponder on the 6 AM December morning, jacketless, wind-tunnel drive home." Yes, my friendly warehouse district vagrant's name is Gary. He likes post-modern literature, a good cabernet, and my shit.
And DMX... and this video. Gary is also morally indignant about racial profiling.:
This packing shit is ruining me. I wake up exhausted and not very chipper.
Luckily, it's a grade-A stoner-blaring-music job. On it!
Note: Packing requires dance/club music, hip-hop, and anything to which you can strip... unless you strip to soft jazz, in which case, I will not be making it rain.
These songs are so much musical herpes. Scratch that itch.
Get out of my head encephalitic hook!!!
(I literally woke up with the lines "Sober girls around me; they keep acking like they drunk" ringing in my head as though an oddly libertine mantra
God-voice:"Awake and go about your day... but before you do, carry this with you throughout all of your travels: 'That 808 bump make you put yo hands up!'"
Me:"Thanks a ton, God-voice."
God-voice:"You're welcome, Jerk.")
(note: subtle but integral difference between god-voice and voice-of-god. The first is your interior narraration, your first person singular... the second is a queef. Ok... subtle was litotes.
I GOT TO USE THE WORD "LITOTES" TODAY PARADE! I win at you, life!
This is my new favorite song: "We all play synth!"
Haha. Really apropos to the original.
Because bitches is scandalous. The best part is around 0:53, where Xhibit provides a dissertation on anthropological practices "common in cali." For some reason, the egregious exposition makes my heart go "ba-dum-dum. :
Nostalgia... why are the connotative memories of people dropping cherries in my car and my window getting broken out (at a warehouse rave) and having this C.D. stolen. The drive back was 100% freezing what with the thief having apparently had a penchant for our letterman jackets and all of my C.D.s but for Superdrag and Bob Dylan. Seriously.. "hey, gary.. instead of ripping off EVERYTHING in the car, how about we leave only two totally unrelated Cds so as to provide something to ponder on the 6 AM December morning, jacketless, wind-tunnel drive home." Yes, my friendly warehouse district vagrant's name is Gary. He likes post-modern literature, a good cabernet, and my shit.
And DMX... and this video. Gary is also morally indignant about racial profiling.: