I spent part of Friday night alone, trying to bang out a new post. I went to the Planet Café figuring that perhaps it might lend me some encouragement. Sometimes I need a little push, and a different locale helps. Nothing like different stimuli to get the creative juices flowing. (And the coffee’s damn good too…)
Usually it’s quiet there. It’s the kind of place where urban hipsters flake out and load up on as much caffeine as I can handle in the run of a week. The staff there tends to be somewhat funkier than what a Starbucks would normally condone. Usually adorned with dreadlocks, and some sort of “Smash the State” kind of t-shirt, but always pleasant nonetheless. In a nutshell, these are my kind of people.
Normally I feel at home here, but much to my immediate horror, they had James Taylor blaring on the stereo. (Well as much as anyone can blare James Taylor…) For the record I hate his music. It’s soooo fucking weepy. It sort of sounds like a hound dog baying at the moon, only maybe like 30 percent more boring.
I feel about James Taylor much the way I feel about Pink Floyd. BORING… Hopelessly fucking boring, and totally self-indulgent. (I realize I have committed an act of sacrilege, but I don’t care… Both are less interesting than watching paint dry.)
I remember watching Pink Floyd’s Live at Pompeii, and thinking John Lennon’s dead, and these useless twits get to live. Life really isn’t fair is it? Perhaps Mark Chapman should have re evaluated his target. (Never trust a Presbyterian to do a man’s job…)
(About here is the point where a co-worker might say something like “Geez Marcus, Tell us how you really fell…)
Anyway, on to something else…
I’m going to do a few guest spots at the club tomorrow night. Truthfully I really need to do them anyway or my head might explode from boredom. I can’t remember the last time I was this bored. I really need something to occupy my time. Yesterday there was a moment when I truly contemplated driving a screwdriver into one of my eyes. I’m pretty sure that’s not good. I believe my optometrist would likely frown on the concept in its entirety. Although I do have a strange fondness a good eye patch.
I really haven’t felt like writing too much either. I just don’t seem to have the motivation for it. Perhaps I have finally slipped into a near vegetative state. Whatever it is, I feel like I’ve committed a crime against myself. The id and ego are both asleep and the soma has been towed to the impound lot, and It seems I have no idea where that might be.
One last thing...
I had to remove the comments from the foo fighters picture post, because some shithead decided to post some crappy advertising. I have a little message directed solely at the fiend. You have defaced my personal little space on the web, and you really need to fuck off. At no point have I ever fucked with your shit. Stay away you are not wanted here.
That's all... More to come later!!!
1 comment:
I was wondering about the Foo comments.
The ass who spammed you has done so on other sites. You can delete just their post. Just hit the little trash can at the bottom of it. Also report it to Blogger as it is a violation of the rules.
Spammers, the lowest of all creatures. I would rather be hungover and invite a Jehovah Witness in for a chat than be spammed every day. At least you can fuck with the door to door religous ones head!
Post a Comment