I know a blog post isn't a legal will, but as a statement of intention I would like to say that at my funeral (whenever that may be so calm your tits, we haven't set a date or anything) I want the last song to be played to be The Beatles "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band Reprise." We hope you have enjoyed the show/sorry but it's time to go and all that. And crank that song up, because I want the attendees to have a toe-tappin' fun time mourning my passing. None of that sad "live like you're dying" bullshit. (No offense intended, sis.) I want a party! With blackjack, and hookers!
...Okay, I'll just settle for the song. Oh, and spread my ashes somewhere fun!
A blog about the misadventures of Life, written by an occasionally unwilling participant.
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Thursday, February 1, 2018
Do You Feel Like He Did?
SCENE: My earbuds, earlier today, as I'm jamming to "Frampton Comes Alive"
FRAMPTON'S MAGICAL TALKING GUITAR: "Do you feel..."
OVERENTHUSIASTIC FAN IN AUDIENCE, AUDIBLE ABOVE EVERYONE ELSE: "Yeeaa!"
FRAMPTON'S APPARENTLY HARD-OF-HEARING TALKING GUITAR, AGAIN INQUIRING: "Do you feeeeeel..."
SAME FAN, THIS TIME DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO BURSTING A BLOOD VESSEL OR HAVING SOME SORT OF MUSICALLY-INDUCED SEXUAL CLIMAX: "YeeeeeeeEEEEEAAAAAAAAA!!!"
I wasn't there, but imagine this fan then fell over from loss of blood flow and writhed around on the ground in ecstasy, apparently indeed feeling like the guitar did.
FRAMPTON'S MAGICAL TALKING GUITAR: "Do you feel..."
OVERENTHUSIASTIC FAN IN AUDIENCE, AUDIBLE ABOVE EVERYONE ELSE: "Yeeaa!"
FRAMPTON'S APPARENTLY HARD-OF-HEARING TALKING GUITAR, AGAIN INQUIRING: "Do you feeeeeel..."
SAME FAN, THIS TIME DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO BURSTING A BLOOD VESSEL OR HAVING SOME SORT OF MUSICALLY-INDUCED SEXUAL CLIMAX: "YeeeeeeeEEEEEAAAAAAAAA!!!"
I wasn't there, but imagine this fan then fell over from loss of blood flow and writhed around on the ground in ecstasy, apparently indeed feeling like the guitar did.
"To Adult is Human, to Nap, Feline..."
Being an adult is weird.
On one hand, you are always tired and there is no power in the entire Cosmos that can possibly change this. Also, you are constantly required to make awkward conversation with other adult humans, which usually involves expressing amazement that weather is a dynamic system that often undergoes change. As an added bonus, you have to have money or you literally die, then get billed for it.
On the other hand, you are free to decide, whenever you want, to purchase and consume tasty concoctions for no reason at all, at any hour. (*May I recommend the cheesecake milkshake from Sonic. It has actual tasty bits of...something. Something delicious. I'm not afraid of it.) Plus you can have as many cats as you want, because cats are freakin' awesome.
So all in all I suppose the adulting experience balances out, so one is free to contemplate one's smallness and insignificance in a vast, utterly unfeeling Universe while slurping loudly from a plastic, environmentally irresponsible drinking straw.
Anyway, enjoy your dinner.
On one hand, you are always tired and there is no power in the entire Cosmos that can possibly change this. Also, you are constantly required to make awkward conversation with other adult humans, which usually involves expressing amazement that weather is a dynamic system that often undergoes change. As an added bonus, you have to have money or you literally die, then get billed for it.
On the other hand, you are free to decide, whenever you want, to purchase and consume tasty concoctions for no reason at all, at any hour. (*May I recommend the cheesecake milkshake from Sonic. It has actual tasty bits of...something. Something delicious. I'm not afraid of it.) Plus you can have as many cats as you want, because cats are freakin' awesome.
So all in all I suppose the adulting experience balances out, so one is free to contemplate one's smallness and insignificance in a vast, utterly unfeeling Universe while slurping loudly from a plastic, environmentally irresponsible drinking straw.
Anyway, enjoy your dinner.
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