Perplexed, So Am I.
Not a hey-day Sunday.
What is an almost-migraine? A fucked up shit festival going in your head, without your approval yet seemingly more drunken when you're mad.. at it. Yes. Bad news over good: (i) the Honky Tonk Orchestra-- one of my favorites whom brilliantly have saxophoned my nights away have called it quits.. but I've scored a piece or four (heh) from their album, so it's good; (ii) absent retail goods to blind the already blinded; (iii) the Friday night alleged "party" in an alleged "budget-hotel"-- but, why is it bad news? I don't know. I don't even know what my next sentence is. But remain calm. What I'm stoked about: the film (points) "I'm Not There"-- because I love musicians' biographies made into movies. And re-embracing love for Breakfast At Tiffany's, hence soon owning a cat named Cat. And Monday's merry ways of scheduled text book references, caffeine abuse, trans-fat consuming.. and early morning Chuck Bass rendezvous. Recently, or so, whatever-- the Sun produced an article about post-Tiesto surroundings and was "blatantly shocked" and it "did not make sense"-- but I mean.. youths going back to their non-shared hotel rooms for their early Subuh prayers are very much expected post rave concert. What can I say? Welcome to the new world. Sports-wise: the Blues should offer Cech a new deal, because if he goes and I.. go. Yes. Dare I say it out loud. And perhaps get some talented youths and promote passion for the club instead of avaricious wankers? Yes.. that too. Perhaps I've said too much. I love you, Blues!
[MUSIC] the Honky Tonk Orchestra - Comma Criminals
Lollapalooza line-up, oh my Lord.. the amplitude of greatness concealed. Fucking magical.