December 6th, 2010

There are those days when you just wake up on the wrong side of bed. Days like that are useless to be logged. Only bad thoughts are attributed as the blame for that mood. In the form of a song, lets drown in sorrow:


"Harmonia" by Cass McCombs

As I become older and more mature i seem to be arrive at the border of independence. A place where my mother will give me a little more space and where i should be well off to do such things like make my own grocery list, contribute towards bills, and be aware of my credit score. This transition has left me with the responsibility to attribute value to all of the useless shit i keep that has "sentimental" value from my past. For example, three buddha figurines have traveled from five different bedrooms of mine and sat next to my sleeping head for ganesha knows what reason. Cleaning out my buddhas and shirts from baby Gap has also led me to my music library which is a collection logging the angsty and meaningful journey of my emo-to-screamo-to-folky-to-rottencowcore of my adolesence. But i stand as a man of duty and delete the songs that i realistically will never listen to again ignoring my conscious that implores i'll want to play "toxic" by brittany spears just for fun in the near future. Upon this task, ive come across those gems that i have forgotten or impulse downloads i didn't give any attention to. These are some of the treasures i'm enjoying while i eradicate the songs of my past.

"Little Girl" - Billy Preston
"I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" - Colin Hay
"Waterfall" - Daniel Rossen
"Yes, This Is About You" - Gatsby's American Dream
"The Thought Gives Me The Creeps (Daytrotter)" - Hellogoodbye**song rules
"Gymnopedie" - Joe Galambos
"Gravity" - John Mayer from his live album Where The Light Is
"Under the Gun" - The Killers

A smally poopy makes a big problem

Hello blog world! I'm come here with great intrigue and fascination. It's fun to be in the position as the "blog writer," although part of my perception is that they are snooty assholes that are too vague to ever "follow." While on my soapbox, now i realize how easy it is to confess the subjects of the days' or even moments' events. I now live the one bedroom life and besides from the occasional stints of frustrating boredom the days go by in great relief and pleasure. All is well in the house i call The Shoe until a minor problem can turn into a poop problem. Although i had to make great poopy and biked home real fast after being too constipated to be comfortable in a public bathroom (Closed For Business: nice wall paper). Although i don't think the result was worthy to clog, i am now burdened with The Unplungable Toilet; a deep bellybutton full of muddy waters that refuses to allow any sort of suction. Now i sit here smelling that monster, that poop filled toilet. The air is filled with poop. My mind if full of poop. And like the affect of running water, i want to poop as well.
Bedtime.