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THIS IS ME :::
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I went looking up lyrics today, and I don't think I ever will again. It's been bugging me lately that some of the substitutes for lyrics I use don't make any sense at all; I know that most of the real ones don't make any sense either, but it still feels weird to sing along to a song and end up muttering through parts you don't know. Oddly enough, my search quickly became a search for uncertainty. The lyrics I found were totally unsatisfactory -- I like them less than the made-up ones I usually use. Once I found some words, I began looking for signs that the words I found were wrong, and it doesn't get much more pointless than that. Metaphors that I really loved have been reduced to acid-induced babble, and songs with a clear purpose and interesting premise are suddenly just a vocal excuse for cool guitar riffs. I'm going back to my lyrics, and to hell with all those meddling artists. The downside is that I now have to fill in the mutter-spaces. Nick ::: 1:45 AM ::: 0 comments
A shocking and disturbing report about this nation's presidency Nick ::: 9:01 PM ::: 0 comments
OK, I know it's only Billboard, but if Nelly wins anything for "Getting Hot in Here," it will officially signal the end of the musical world as we know it. I'm doing my stock project now. Notice that I don't say "finishing up" or "combining the information I've gathered over the past few months." I say "doing," because just now I am selecting a fourth stock, tracking the prices, getting the articles...I am in hell. Nick ::: 11:43 PM ::: 0 comments
I can't smell the rat anymore. This is because my nose has shut down -- probably part of the office people's diabolical plan. The only problem is that now my lungs hurt and I can barely breathe. Like the new look? Nick ::: 11:08 PM ::: 0 comments
OK, there is or was a great bloody dead rat in my building (the office won't make it clear whether the carcass is gone or not) and today they had a couple of people come in my apartment, stare at the ceiling, and deny that they could smell anything. They also whistled nonchalantly from time to time. I'm standing there, staring back and forth between the two of them in utter disbelief as they feign innocence and breathe shallowly, and thinking to myself, So this is what life has come to? It was like they were staging one of those bad horror flicks where only the main character can see the monster. Attack of the Really Foul-Smelling Rat Carcass. But it's surprising how hard it is to argue with someone who is saying, "No, I can't smell it. What are you talking about?" Try and think of a counter-argument that won't have you going in circles with that one. Oh, and it's confirmed. They actually perfume-bombed the building. It's become a desolate battleground between eau de toilette and odeur de cadavre. (Insert "Ravenswood" shudder here.) Now bugger off. Nick ::: 7:47 PM ::: 0 comments |