The general plan was to shoot some video tonight and this isn't a wimpy, whiny weather-related excuse for it not happening. Nooooo, I have a much better excuse than that. This is the post-crazy clean-up and it involves cat litter ... wet cat litter ... a lot of wet cat litter. Now think Shawshank and you'll know I won't be busted for a hand-shaking friendship any time soon.
So long as you're willing to do the dirty jobs, you'll never fear for job security. Yeah. buddy.
Yevette was in the thick of it. Don't be thinking she was inside sucking up mint juleps.
No need for more news on that as two days are compressed into a paragraph and that works just fine. Something cooler was Jose came by to mow the grass. Yevette had paid for him to do it a couple of times before but had never met him. He doesn't speak much English and Yevette went all-Euro in finding Spanish she could recall so she could fill for anything misunderstood. Very nice, very nice.
I missed it but that sort of exchange is charming to watch.
When you accept that people often don't speak the same language, the world gets so much more colorful. The negotiation we do in meeting someone new so we can find common words is one of the most beautiful things we do.
Blood and guts is fashionable but it's not my preference generally. In talking with Cat this morning, I told her of one of the earliest songs I wrote and it was about two guys in a missile silo. It doesn't identify which side. They get the order to fire because the other side has just launched. The purpose of the song is to ask them not to push the button so someone, somewhere, may live.
It's not my preference to write material like that but I will react to what I see and there's a whole lot of bulllllllshit going on. There is no point in writing about the wars as they're a symptom of a larger problem in that there's a lot of money to be made supplying them.
What they miss altogether is that Apple is the richest corporation in the country and the only thing they make that explodes is a battery. While the GOP prides itself on supporting business, they invest in one of the least-profitable ways to do it and then blow up places which could be turning huge profits any other way ... and this makes them just about the worst businessmen you could possibly design.
Imagine those lyrics.
It really doesn't matter what I write as I'm a victim of political persecution, don'tcha know. Yes, no-one will buy my music because I think their religion is false, their politics are a sham, and they probably suck in bed. And people hate me for that. Gad.
I suck in bed but that doesn't matter either as there ain't no-one else in it. That could be marginally amusing in a song but I'm sure I couldn't be bothered to write it.
There's irony in observing those who espouse religion and assail with the greatest fervor the rabidity of extremist Muslims as these people will do exactly the same things if your words provoke them enough. Well, more accurately ... my words.
They really hate being called killers and they can work up a frothy righteousness that would be the envy of any seer of visions. Um, you kill ... ergo, you are a killer. Follow me so far, sweetheart?
They come on with such delicious implied ferocity ... I'd kill you but it's fookin' illegal. Praise be. I'm sure feelin' that Power.
I haven't had any straight-up death threats in years except for one guy who said he hopes I burn in a fire. I still giggle over that one. Dude, that was seriously imaginative, you vicious fuck.
Where's the song in any of this. What's the protest for people acting like selfish fuckheads.
Ohhhhhh
we're all just a bunch of fuckin' assholes
we pimp and cheat and jive all day long
we're never very happy unless we're robbin'
and, oh, oh, take a long, good look at my schlong.
Ohhhhhhhhhh
we're all just a bunch of fuckin' assholes
So long as you're willing to do the dirty jobs, you'll never fear for job security. Yeah. buddy.
Yevette was in the thick of it. Don't be thinking she was inside sucking up mint juleps.
No need for more news on that as two days are compressed into a paragraph and that works just fine. Something cooler was Jose came by to mow the grass. Yevette had paid for him to do it a couple of times before but had never met him. He doesn't speak much English and Yevette went all-Euro in finding Spanish she could recall so she could fill for anything misunderstood. Very nice, very nice.
I missed it but that sort of exchange is charming to watch.
When you accept that people often don't speak the same language, the world gets so much more colorful. The negotiation we do in meeting someone new so we can find common words is one of the most beautiful things we do.
Blood and guts is fashionable but it's not my preference generally. In talking with Cat this morning, I told her of one of the earliest songs I wrote and it was about two guys in a missile silo. It doesn't identify which side. They get the order to fire because the other side has just launched. The purpose of the song is to ask them not to push the button so someone, somewhere, may live.
It's not my preference to write material like that but I will react to what I see and there's a whole lot of bulllllllshit going on. There is no point in writing about the wars as they're a symptom of a larger problem in that there's a lot of money to be made supplying them.
What they miss altogether is that Apple is the richest corporation in the country and the only thing they make that explodes is a battery. While the GOP prides itself on supporting business, they invest in one of the least-profitable ways to do it and then blow up places which could be turning huge profits any other way ... and this makes them just about the worst businessmen you could possibly design.
Imagine those lyrics.
It really doesn't matter what I write as I'm a victim of political persecution, don'tcha know. Yes, no-one will buy my music because I think their religion is false, their politics are a sham, and they probably suck in bed. And people hate me for that. Gad.
I suck in bed but that doesn't matter either as there ain't no-one else in it. That could be marginally amusing in a song but I'm sure I couldn't be bothered to write it.
There's irony in observing those who espouse religion and assail with the greatest fervor the rabidity of extremist Muslims as these people will do exactly the same things if your words provoke them enough. Well, more accurately ... my words.
They really hate being called killers and they can work up a frothy righteousness that would be the envy of any seer of visions. Um, you kill ... ergo, you are a killer. Follow me so far, sweetheart?
They come on with such delicious implied ferocity ... I'd kill you but it's fookin' illegal. Praise be. I'm sure feelin' that Power.
I haven't had any straight-up death threats in years except for one guy who said he hopes I burn in a fire. I still giggle over that one. Dude, that was seriously imaginative, you vicious fuck.
Where's the song in any of this. What's the protest for people acting like selfish fuckheads.
Ohhhhhh
we're all just a bunch of fuckin' assholes
we pimp and cheat and jive all day long
we're never very happy unless we're robbin'
and, oh, oh, take a long, good look at my schlong.
Ohhhhhhhhhh
we're all just a bunch of fuckin' assholes
(cough)
Fark. Do it like a Sinatra cover.
I'm not going to do this even though I think it would be blinding funny.
It might be time to crash. I can cheerfully report the new used iMac has not crashed despite varied uses through the course of the day ... the rubbish detail has completed the mission ... my business with the world is concluded for this day before the day before payday when the CD goes out for the Sister Julie CD Project. Now that the rubbish detail has completed, maybe tomorrow.
Zounds ... good-bye Shawshank.
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