I find you in the morning, after dreams of distant signs
You pour yourself over me, like the sun through the blinds
You lift me up and get me out
Keep me walking but never shout
Hold the secret close, I hear you say...
-Peter Murphy, "Cuts You Up"
My mind is swirling tonight, and not just because I narrowly escaped having to see the BayCity Rollers in concert (phew! and I mean that sincerely). The nearest big city has a "summer concert series," where various M.I.A. and/or forgotten musicians and ensembles play for free on Thursday nights for the public. This was the scheduled band tonight, and one of my friends, who obviously suffers from some sort of severe psychedelic drug habit I wasn't privy to, suggested we go. hahahahahahha! "No, really." silence. "Uh, yes really." So I am here and not there. Who is the lucky one, I ask? Of course, Missing Persons is scheduled for a date in September, and I may attend that event, if only for the pure irony of the namesake.
Friends are good people to have in your life, especially when you need to hear the cold, hard truth. Jen [World's Greatest Lesbian, for those of you who are just tuning in] and I went out this morning, and in the car, she turned to me and said, "Damn, your hair really IS dark." I said, "Has it lightened up any? It's getting lighter, isn't it?" to which she answered a very flat and unapologetic "Absolutely not. It sucks." Sometimes we need true friends to tell us just how unattractive we are. And to slap bleach on our hair and tell us, halfway through the process, that "this is going to look funny as hell" and "I'm going to piss myself laughing if your hair fall out!" The result of this afternoon's hair-streak-a-thon?
This is a symbolic interpretation. I'd mime it as well but I have a sunburn on the top of my shoulders from our outing this morning. It's so bizarre I have to laugh my ass off every time I pass a mirror. And I know Jen feels sorry... especially since she knows I have to color her grey next week hehehehehehe revenge is sweetest between best friends.
Absolutely nothing witty to report today. I'm empty of cynicism, at least for tonight. Never fear, I'll be as jaded and full of my assclown tirades as ever tomorrow.
You pour yourself over me, like the sun through the blinds
You lift me up and get me out
Keep me walking but never shout
Hold the secret close, I hear you say...
-Peter Murphy, "Cuts You Up"
My mind is swirling tonight, and not just because I narrowly escaped having to see the BayCity Rollers in concert (phew! and I mean that sincerely). The nearest big city has a "summer concert series," where various M.I.A. and/or forgotten musicians and ensembles play for free on Thursday nights for the public. This was the scheduled band tonight, and one of my friends, who obviously suffers from some sort of severe psychedelic drug habit I wasn't privy to, suggested we go. hahahahahahha! "No, really." silence. "Uh, yes really." So I am here and not there. Who is the lucky one, I ask? Of course, Missing Persons is scheduled for a date in September, and I may attend that event, if only for the pure irony of the namesake.
Friends are good people to have in your life, especially when you need to hear the cold, hard truth. Jen [World's Greatest Lesbian, for those of you who are just tuning in] and I went out this morning, and in the car, she turned to me and said, "Damn, your hair really IS dark." I said, "Has it lightened up any? It's getting lighter, isn't it?" to which she answered a very flat and unapologetic "Absolutely not. It sucks." Sometimes we need true friends to tell us just how unattractive we are. And to slap bleach on our hair and tell us, halfway through the process, that "this is going to look funny as hell" and "I'm going to piss myself laughing if your hair fall out!" The result of this afternoon's hair-streak-a-thon?
This is a symbolic interpretation. I'd mime it as well but I have a sunburn on the top of my shoulders from our outing this morning. It's so bizarre I have to laugh my ass off every time I pass a mirror. And I know Jen feels sorry... especially since she knows I have to color her grey next week hehehehehehe revenge is sweetest between best friends.
Absolutely nothing witty to report today. I'm empty of cynicism, at least for tonight. Never fear, I'll be as jaded and full of my assclown tirades as ever tomorrow.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
In real life, I've always loved the roller coasters, but to extend the metaphor (touche, sweets, the analogy battle is on!), I've always been better on the merry-go-round. Always wanted to ride the bumper cars more, and thats where I'm at, but this horse is the closest to the brass ri . . wait a sec -- sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. To be continued. . .
What happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas, but somehow it always pops up in stories told in other cities regardless. Yes, leave the psychological seatbelts at home.