Eric Idle's thoughts on the FCC.
And mine as well.
But:
A) he says it much more eloquently than I could
and
B) he was in Monty Python.
So there.
Lately I've spent lots of time not reading blogs.
And not writing blogs.
An astounding amount of time, really.
Now, I could chalk it up to going to colorado, trying to cram as much together-time as possible with my girlfriend before she goes a thousand miles away, school, summer school, drinking and seeing opera, but I won't.
It's just that I get to, oh, about here in my posts, and just lose it.
I mean, what was I even talking about?
Hang on, lemme see.
I have no idea.
Lately I've been down on lots of things.
Most movies, books and tv leave me cold.
Shrek 2 was ehhhhh.
Troy was alright.
The Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break was ok.
Kill Bill 2 was indulgent.
I did like the first season of The Office, which Matt lent me.
I find myself being really harsh on everybody's writing, including my own.
But I just want something more.
Everything seems so mundane.
I haven''t even got writer's block.
I don't even try to try writing.
I've got tryer's block.
Oh, my computer died, too.
And I lost a couple plays and such.
and a bunch of music.
But I just don't seem to care.
I don't know why I'm even putting this up.
So...
If you know of anything wowie zowie slam-pop-bang-whizzzzzz exciting, please leave me the story or a link in my comments.
"It's a motherfucker bein' here without you."
"It could have been—it didn't have to be obscene. It could have been—a bird out of season, dropping bright-feathered on my shoulder, it could have been a tongueless dwarf standing by the road to point the way. I was prepared. But it's this, is it? No enigma, no dignity, nothing classical, portentous, only this —a comic pornographer and a rabble of prostitutes."
So I saw Fred Durst at Swinger's tonight.
He was wearing a Sonic Youth t-shirt.
Buddyhead's latest on mr. durst (see the "BIGGEST POSER ALIVE UPDATE") pretty much sums up my feelings about him.
Mr. Durst is now claiming to listen to the Smiths, My Bloody Valentine, Mazzy Star, and the afore mentioned Sonic Youth.
I guess he's finally reached 10th grade CIRCA 1992-93.
What the fuck?
Read buddyhead.
I can only echo their sentiments about this cock-jock-rap-rock cum record-exec.
Fucker.
Fuckker.
I hate him.
In other news, Katie saw Lucas from Empire Records (aka: Rock and Fun) at Ze Coach and Horses.
Katie is so much cooler than me. Even in the celebrities she sees.
*Sigh*
Junk mail absurdist (found) poetry:
avocado pit 8661 alchemists
Any plaintiff can brainwash razor blade about,
but it takes a real mastadon to toward dolphin.
Any minivan can operate a small fruit stand with living with line dancer,
but it takes a real swamp to guardian angel for a curse about stalactite daydreams,
but related to support group trade baseball cards with avocado pit about.
Still bounce her form of demon,
brainwash her deficit of with about submarine.
for abstraction secretly admire mastadon toward,
but squid about traffic light share a shower with tenor toward clock.
Furthermore, impresario around alchemist gets stinking drunk,
and garbage can of bartender caricature marzipan of swamp.
legislate chicagoan coventry invite cowhide programmable amphibian
over 0 because
CEO around jersey cow, carpet tack near,
and alchemist for are what made America great!pork chop inside rejoices,
and cargo bay behind leaves; however, grand piano inside mourn...
When hydrogen atom of graduated cylinder is wily,
of mortician cook cheese grits for related to freight train.
Any bowling french ball can bounce over grand piano,
but it takes a real support group to earring toward.
alchemists remain so-called.
Now and then, lover toward movie theater negotiate a prenuptial agreement with living with dilettante.
tenderfoot exclusionary ballast lax bugging
Monday's achewood is already up!
Yee-Haw.
But wait.
This means I'll be all sad monday when there's not a fresh one.