I'm lying in bed, can't sleep, listening to Bittersweet Symphony. Again...
Just set up an account on Wikinut, which so far looks promising. Going to try and submit an article to Cracked.com. As soon as I think up an idea, that is.
Now I'm on It Was So Beautiful, by Stephane Grappelli. Arguably, the best jazz violinist France ever saw, and it doesn't hurt that Django Reinhardt is on guitar.
Just been thinking too much lately. Can't focus my head on anything useful.
Oh, the site that's showcasing my work- ltfawkes.com. It's got about 24,000 hits right now. I'll post a link on the sidebar or something, you know, for all of my fans who read this blog at least three times a day. Remember, you're not normal unless you read a blog at least as many times as you brush your teeth.
I thought it was kind of funny, tonight. At dinner, there's all these ads for different nonsense on the tables, so I drew all over them. Stuff like eye patches and little faces peeking around corners. Then I wrote the URL for this blog in the corner, to do a little advertising of my own. We'll see if it works.
Send Me On My Way, by Rusted Root. Thinking about Video Killed the Radio Star next. I like a lot of these one-hit-wonder bands. It's like you have most bands, which make a couple of really good songs over a decade or so, and then the other bands that make one really damn good, top-drawer track. I just lean towards that, somehow.
I've been sick off and on for like two, three weeks now. At first I figured it's just cause of the whole living in the dorms with nasty people who don't bathe thing, but now I'm going to see a doctor next week. I go back and forth between being fairly okay and then feeling like a plane crash every few hours. It's getting old.
I have to go to a play tomorrow. It's this traveling theater thing from Montana that gets kids to like performing. I respect what they do, but I just know it's going to be lame. My brother's in it, so that ought to be good. He really gets into it.
Mostly, I'm just not looking forward to going to my old high school. I don't talk to any of my former classmates- used to go whole days without saying a word or having a word said to me. Maybe I'll get lucky and I won't run into anyone.
Devil Went Down To Georgia, Charlie Daniels Band. I hope it's the uncensored version. It just ruins the whole flow when they say "son of a gun" instead of "son of a bitch". Rednecks don't say "son of a gun", they say "I dun hard cuzin Skeetch wus cummin' inta tawn an' he dun gun' bring summa 'is kids 'n
DAMN! It is the radio edit!
She Blinded Me With Science, by Thomas Dolby. mwahahahahaha.....
I want a lab coat. I'd have pens and mechanical pencils in the pocket. The good ones, like Zebra pens and those pencils from Germany I like so much. They're these nifty drafting pencils. God... I get a chill just thinking about it. I say it all the time, a good writing stick is like an extension of the hand. You don't feel it, it's just there, and the writing slides onto the paper. It's beautiful like your date's prom dress is supposed to be, only it's worn more than once and there is way, WAY less grinding.
Here Comes The Sun, by the Beatles.
One day, people will pay me to write this gibberish. Gibberish... "I like the cut of that man's Gib...erish".
The cool part about the interweb? I can do this...
...and I don't get put away. How cool is that? I swear, if they had had this back in the day, the asylums would have been empty.
Yoda, by Weird Al.
I heard they were going to make a seventh Star Wars. I read a bunch of the expanded universe novels and stuff... Frankly, I just think Lucas can only make one kind of movie, and it ain't American Graffiti. He must realize it by now, because what other motivation could he have for another movie? He's loaded, and he makes a nickel every other time anyone says Star out of context, so it must be that he wants to be creative, but he knows he can't top Obi-Wan and the dude in black armor. What was his name... Oh yeah,
She was lookin' kinda dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an "L" on her forehead...
One day, when I'm committed, they'll look at this blog to understand the moment I lost it. Little will they know, I never had it in the first place...
One day, I'd like to find a nice girl. I'd walk up to her, look her right in the eye, take her hands in mine, and say,
"You make me think of Passion Fruit."
She will be mine, or she will be flabbergasted, and when I ask which she is, I'll know she's my soul mate if she responds,
"Frosted Flakes are the best breakfast cereal, aren't they?"
Then, we will discuss nuclear science and the rise and fall of a little known fictional emperor of my imagination named Phillip the Meek But With Slick Hair and a Keen Disposition Making him Liked by Nine Tenths of the Peasantry.
Bad Reputation, by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.
The Boys Are Back In Town, by Thin Lizzy.
I have the nicer earbuds, the ones that curve around the outer ear to keep secure. Superior in every way, except the right one has a tendency to shock me right in the fucking ear. Power ballads never sounded so powerful.
"Couldn't care less" and "Could care less" mean the same thing. Both display a healthy measure of apathy.
Glenn Beck is a pussy. Joe Biden reminds me of a dog that just left a surprise. The Tea Party has nothing to do with tea. Coffee is better. We never would have dumped coffee into a harbor.
If You Believe In Magic, by Lovin' Spoonful. Makes the medicine go down, I've been told.
What the hell is bananas foster? I have it stuck in my head, now. I just keep thinking Jodie Foster and Bananas in Pajamas. They have a demon child together, Jonana. It's 50 feet tall and has a penchant for upstaging Japanese cultural icons.
La Vaca Grande, or the Giant Cow: It terrorizes Mexican villages. The peasants run in terror, but are drowned in a flood of milk! WHY, GOD? WHYYYY DID THEY ALL HAVE TO BE LACTOSE INTOLERANT?!?! (weeps silently, clutching the bodies of his wife and child).
And now I have an idea for a story. You have just witnessed birth! CLEAN YOUR EYES, FOOLS!
The Power of Love, Huey Lewis and the News.