You know what i hate? Children singing. It sounds so unnatural, like they're begging for their mom to puke a worm into their mouths. The only exception to this is Kids Bop, only because the surrealness of ugly children singing Modest Mouse gives me some warped sense of pleasure. This is relevant to nothing.
I hate writing right now. Seems like it doesn't really do anything, but i'd rather take out this sense of weirdness & cynicism on SG than on poor fictional characters.
I love "Crimson & Clover" by Tommy James & the Shondells. I've been listening to it most of the day. Pretty sure Lou Reed stole the riff & used it for "Sweet Jane," which i think makes me like it more. Song's one of those that i think can seem either sad or ecstatic, depending on your mood when you hear it. Love songs like that. Didn't care for the Joan Jett version, oddly enough. Not bad, but just wasn't as good.
I knew, always, that the Perfect Girl isn't real. The girl who knows about Miles Davis, who reads things & wants to talk about them, who can see just as much (if completely different & in one case much less flattering) beauty in "Casablanca" as she does in "Rocky IV." Someone of great talent, great wit, & great strength. I think that covers my definition of perfection pretty well. She doesn't exist, or if she does she's amazing well hidden. My point in all this is, would it make me a shitty person to "settle" for less than what i consider perfection? And if so, is it even worth seeking such a person out?
One call for Joe Herr today. Johnson City, Tennessee is now among my least favorite places. I even told the woman so, & she got all offended. And, because it's Tennessee, & because the man is one of the main things i blame my warped self on, I decided to launch into that classic Andy Kaufman Vs Memphis spiel. It was amazing. I don't hate Tennessee, you understand, but it was just too good a moment to pass up. She hung up around the time i asked if she'd ever heard of soap.
I almost wrote a paragraph on how "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" is in effect a retelling of the story of Christ. This means i should stop.
I hate writing right now. Seems like it doesn't really do anything, but i'd rather take out this sense of weirdness & cynicism on SG than on poor fictional characters.
I love "Crimson & Clover" by Tommy James & the Shondells. I've been listening to it most of the day. Pretty sure Lou Reed stole the riff & used it for "Sweet Jane," which i think makes me like it more. Song's one of those that i think can seem either sad or ecstatic, depending on your mood when you hear it. Love songs like that. Didn't care for the Joan Jett version, oddly enough. Not bad, but just wasn't as good.
I knew, always, that the Perfect Girl isn't real. The girl who knows about Miles Davis, who reads things & wants to talk about them, who can see just as much (if completely different & in one case much less flattering) beauty in "Casablanca" as she does in "Rocky IV." Someone of great talent, great wit, & great strength. I think that covers my definition of perfection pretty well. She doesn't exist, or if she does she's amazing well hidden. My point in all this is, would it make me a shitty person to "settle" for less than what i consider perfection? And if so, is it even worth seeking such a person out?
One call for Joe Herr today. Johnson City, Tennessee is now among my least favorite places. I even told the woman so, & she got all offended. And, because it's Tennessee, & because the man is one of the main things i blame my warped self on, I decided to launch into that classic Andy Kaufman Vs Memphis spiel. It was amazing. I don't hate Tennessee, you understand, but it was just too good a moment to pass up. She hung up around the time i asked if she'd ever heard of soap.
I almost wrote a paragraph on how "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" is in effect a retelling of the story of Christ. This means i should stop.
catagogo:
just remember perfection doesn't exsist. that girl may be out there, but if you meet someone with two out of three, don't write her off.