So, if I've learned one thing recently, it is to not read a sad person's away message.
Because now I'm listening to goddamned Something Corporate. Damn you, internet! Damn you, depression!
So today is the day I send out the last half of the payment on my apartment. Which is insane to believe is happening -- I'm moving out of a small burg to a big burg. The bed I'm sitting on will cease to be my bed in only a few short months time. I will become a poor city child, but a poor city child with a kick-ass apartment in a kick-ass part of the Boston area. Awesome.
The envelope, in fact, sits behind me, with the realtor's address and everything. Inside are the things I need to send out along with the fat honkin' check.
I never expected to be doing this, and with so little to fall back on. But I don't think I'd do it if I had a fallback plan. Because where's the fun in that?
I'd like to take a moment to express the annoying fact that I am currently listening to the Chipmunks and the Chippettes. Why? Well, I'm a little bit crazy. And the subject matter of this is kinda fitting to the song: "We're Off To See The World".
In the past week or so, I've had the dumb random luck to hear the next Mike Patton project, Peeping Tom; the new Tool album, 10,000 Days; the upcoming Taking Back Sunday record, Louder Now; and managed to dig out the Dolph Lundgren-starring 1987 version of Masters of The Universe. I think the only reason I like that movie is because it's so bad that it ends up having the "nostalgic childhood" feeling through it -- because it seems to encompass the entire spectrum of bad 80's movies.
I've been on a real Beatles kick, lately. Right now I'm listening to the "de-Spectored" version of Let It Be -- which still doesn't improve the record much, but because it's not their actual last record, it doesn't come off as that sour a taste (for those unaware: The Beatles recorded Let It Be, which when they recorded it, was going to be called Get Back; all the drama occurred during that, and afterwards, none of the guys really wanted to leave on that bad a note, so they went and recorded Abbey Road. However, because of the tie-in to the movie, Get Back/Let It Be got shifted back and back, and so Abbey Road ended up being released first -- and so Let It Be was the final recording released by The Beatles, even though when it came out, John had already left, unofficially).
Let It Be is a pretty shitty documentary, by the way -- but still a better movie than Magical Mystery Tour. There are stoners that would disagree, though. (Consider the irony of saying that on 4.20)
Let me go off on a ramble about that:
Sometimes I wonder why I never became a stoner. I already find myself constantly listening to music formulated in the deepest throes of balls-out drug-induced states (currently I'm listening to a heroin-addicted John Lennon and a hash-high George Harrison), half my friends waver between being one and not being one... and, for some reason, listening to Peeping Tom made me want to listen to Abbey Road, when I first heard it. Usually I'd expect such a jump in musical decades and feelings to come across a stoner's mind. That, and I don't hate Grateful Dead records.
But I'm not really a stoner. Nor am I a heavy drinker. Offer me a beer, some wine, a bit of vodka (actually, more than a bit of vodka), I'll take it. It's socially acceptable, and almost socially accepted. But I don't jump for the booze immediately. I'm tempered differently. Yet I smoke half a pack a day (which means around two packs a week, unless I'm hanging around with Josh, in which case, the habit can go to one or two packs a day).
"Joan was quizzical, studied metaphysical science in the home. Late nights all alone with a test tube, oh oh ohhhhhhh... Maxwell Edison, majoring in medicine, calls her on the phone... can I take you out to the pictures, Jo-o-aaaaaan?"
But I never fell into weed -- not to say I've never tried it, because I have -- and I never really fell into drinking. Maybe I wasted my teenage years, I don't know. All I know is that a ridiculous amount of my graduating class has become gay or got married.
Which, quite frankly, fucks you up a little. Not saying that homosexuality is something that comes from drinking, no -- well, not permanent homosexuality, anyway. You wake up with a hangover next to a naked guy, and you're aware at that moment that you're not gay, that's your dilemma.
But it's kind of odd. The kids that got their craziness all out during high school have instantly settled down, now two (almost three) years after they got out. A couple of them have even knocked a couple of kids out, which frightens me even more, just because I'm aware who they are. And I have to say that some of them really really shouldn't have children.
I'd have finished this a while ago if I knew a good way to end the damn thing.
Instead, the keys will keep clacking as I write into the morning... and I have work in like six hours.
Actually, I just figured out how to end it.
James Franco looks really funny playing D&D.
Because now I'm listening to goddamned Something Corporate. Damn you, internet! Damn you, depression!
So today is the day I send out the last half of the payment on my apartment. Which is insane to believe is happening -- I'm moving out of a small burg to a big burg. The bed I'm sitting on will cease to be my bed in only a few short months time. I will become a poor city child, but a poor city child with a kick-ass apartment in a kick-ass part of the Boston area. Awesome.
The envelope, in fact, sits behind me, with the realtor's address and everything. Inside are the things I need to send out along with the fat honkin' check.
I never expected to be doing this, and with so little to fall back on. But I don't think I'd do it if I had a fallback plan. Because where's the fun in that?
I'd like to take a moment to express the annoying fact that I am currently listening to the Chipmunks and the Chippettes. Why? Well, I'm a little bit crazy. And the subject matter of this is kinda fitting to the song: "We're Off To See The World".
In the past week or so, I've had the dumb random luck to hear the next Mike Patton project, Peeping Tom; the new Tool album, 10,000 Days; the upcoming Taking Back Sunday record, Louder Now; and managed to dig out the Dolph Lundgren-starring 1987 version of Masters of The Universe. I think the only reason I like that movie is because it's so bad that it ends up having the "nostalgic childhood" feeling through it -- because it seems to encompass the entire spectrum of bad 80's movies.
I've been on a real Beatles kick, lately. Right now I'm listening to the "de-Spectored" version of Let It Be -- which still doesn't improve the record much, but because it's not their actual last record, it doesn't come off as that sour a taste (for those unaware: The Beatles recorded Let It Be, which when they recorded it, was going to be called Get Back; all the drama occurred during that, and afterwards, none of the guys really wanted to leave on that bad a note, so they went and recorded Abbey Road. However, because of the tie-in to the movie, Get Back/Let It Be got shifted back and back, and so Abbey Road ended up being released first -- and so Let It Be was the final recording released by The Beatles, even though when it came out, John had already left, unofficially).
Let It Be is a pretty shitty documentary, by the way -- but still a better movie than Magical Mystery Tour. There are stoners that would disagree, though. (Consider the irony of saying that on 4.20)
Let me go off on a ramble about that:
Sometimes I wonder why I never became a stoner. I already find myself constantly listening to music formulated in the deepest throes of balls-out drug-induced states (currently I'm listening to a heroin-addicted John Lennon and a hash-high George Harrison), half my friends waver between being one and not being one... and, for some reason, listening to Peeping Tom made me want to listen to Abbey Road, when I first heard it. Usually I'd expect such a jump in musical decades and feelings to come across a stoner's mind. That, and I don't hate Grateful Dead records.
But I'm not really a stoner. Nor am I a heavy drinker. Offer me a beer, some wine, a bit of vodka (actually, more than a bit of vodka), I'll take it. It's socially acceptable, and almost socially accepted. But I don't jump for the booze immediately. I'm tempered differently. Yet I smoke half a pack a day (which means around two packs a week, unless I'm hanging around with Josh, in which case, the habit can go to one or two packs a day).
"Joan was quizzical, studied metaphysical science in the home. Late nights all alone with a test tube, oh oh ohhhhhhh... Maxwell Edison, majoring in medicine, calls her on the phone... can I take you out to the pictures, Jo-o-aaaaaan?"
But I never fell into weed -- not to say I've never tried it, because I have -- and I never really fell into drinking. Maybe I wasted my teenage years, I don't know. All I know is that a ridiculous amount of my graduating class has become gay or got married.
Which, quite frankly, fucks you up a little. Not saying that homosexuality is something that comes from drinking, no -- well, not permanent homosexuality, anyway. You wake up with a hangover next to a naked guy, and you're aware at that moment that you're not gay, that's your dilemma.
But it's kind of odd. The kids that got their craziness all out during high school have instantly settled down, now two (almost three) years after they got out. A couple of them have even knocked a couple of kids out, which frightens me even more, just because I'm aware who they are. And I have to say that some of them really really shouldn't have children.
I'd have finished this a while ago if I knew a good way to end the damn thing.
Instead, the keys will keep clacking as I write into the morning... and I have work in like six hours.
Actually, I just figured out how to end it.
James Franco looks really funny playing D&D.
just kidding...should we get together this time around like last time (and hope whatever bank we go to doesn't have a tarded attack.) or just send the stuff seperate, which to be honest, i'd rather not do. well, i am work all day tommorow, *a certian shitty Dolly Parton movie comes to mind...sigh*
ring it, if you care
646-1646
and if you dont already know my home...shame.
646-9192
now to leave this blog entry alone, unlike the last one which i kinda raped.