::
2019 4 October :: 11.50pm
:: Music: Lizzo- Truth Hurts
"I don't play tag, bitch, I been it... We don't fuck with lies, we don't do goodbyes..."
Why men great 'til they gotta be great?
Woo
I just took a DNA test, turns out I'm 100% that bitch
Even when I'm crying crazy
Yeah, I got boy problems, that's the human in me
Bling bling, then I solve 'em, that's the goddess in me
You coulda had a bad bitch, non-committal
Help you with your career just a little
You're 'posed to hold me down, but you're holding me back
And that's the sound of me not calling you back
Why men great 'til they gotta be great?
Don't text me, tell it straight to my face
Best friend sat me down in the salon chair
Shampoo press, get you out of my hair
Fresh photos with the bomb lighting
New man on the Minnesota Vikings
Truth hurts, needed something more exciting
Bom bom bi dom bi dum bum bay
You tried to break my heart?
Oh, that breaks my heart
That you thought you ever had it
No, you ain't from the start
Hey, I'm glad you're back with your bitch
I mean who would wanna hide this?
I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever be your side chick
I put the sing in single
Ain't worried 'bout a ring on my finger
So you can tell your friend, "shoot your shot" when you see 'em
It's OK, he already in my DMs
Why men great 'til they gotta be great?
Don't text me, tell it straight to my face
Best friend sat me down in the salon chair
Shampoo press, get you out of my hair
Fresh photos with the bomb lighting
New man on the Minnesota Vikings
Truth hurts, needed something more exciting
Bom bom bi bom bi dum bum bay
I'ma hit you back in a minute
I don't play tag, bitch, I been it
We don't fuck with lies, we don't do goodbyes
We just keep it pushing like aye yi yi
I'ma hit you back in a minute
I don't play tag, bitch, I been it
We don't fuck with lies, we don't do goodbyes
We just keep it pushing like aye yi yi
Why men great 'til they gotta be great?
Don't text me, tell it straight to my face
Best friend sat me down in the salon chair
Shampoo press, get you out of my hair
Fresh photos with the bomb lighting
New man on the Minnesota Vikings
Truth hurts, needed something more exciting
Bom bom bi bom bi dum bum bay
::
2019 4 October :: 9.27pm
:: Music: Murder City Devils
So carve it in rock
I tears of prayer
Everyone knows
What it's called
Does a steamer help
I am I say
I am I cry
Inoculated safe
In my pale disguise
I too have dreams
They sometimes arise
I only have one thing to say
My only call
So carve it in rock
And let it be known
Here stands the asshole
Who dreamed of shitting gold
Here stands the asshole
Who dreamed of shitting gold
Here stands the asshole
Who dreamed of shitting gold
It's all I have to say
It's my only hope
It's the whole of my truth
It's the truth worth to be told
Might I tell
And fortunes unfold
May I be instead
Most of all
So carve it in rock
And let it be known
Here stands the asshole
Who dreamed of shitting gold
Here stands the asshole
Who dreamed of shitting gold
Here stands the asshole
Who dreamed of shitting gold
Here stands the asshole
Who dreamed of shitting gold
In which I am joined by Eliot. He wants to start a 90s cover band, but neither of us sing. The set list is epic ... if we can ever learn all the songs. Or find a vocalist.
Grab me by the throat. Your hands are freezing cold
And fingernails tear nice and slow. You know
I'm not afraid of all the things you think about
When you're alone swallowing your day
Hold on tight. Just hold on tight
Cataclysmic prose. Eye sockets will erode
When days to weeks to months seem half full
Yet I can't impose with another wilted rose
You'll feel this when you see how I've grown
We are broken men
Who shouldn't be saved just yet
Keep breathing. Stay broken
Our blood's boiled thin
You can taste it with every breath taken in
It's 2:30 AM. Years become layers of skin
I've shed them all but I'm not done yet
Heavy hearts my friends, come sing in unison
And drag me out of this hole I'm in
We are broken men
Who shouldn't be saved just yet
Keep breathing. Stay broken
Our blood's boiled thin
You can taste it with every breath taken in
Are you breathing?
Stay broken
I've earned my bitterness
My legs are planted firm in transit-stance
For this dead romance
Grab me by the throat. Your hands are freezing cold
And fingernails tear nice and slow. You know
I'm not afraid of all the things you think about
When you're alone swallowing your whole...
We are broken men
Who shouldn't be saved just yet
Keep breathing. Stay broken
Our blood's boiled thin
You can taste it with every breath taken in
I happened across an old recording of this drum pattern I'd written for basement audio lab. It was a crappy demo version consisting of me tapping on my legs and kicking the mic stand. It was virtually unlistenable, with a horrendous click track going in the background. I was surprised to find the pattern came much more naturally to me this time around, and the click was not necessary. I just wanted to make a better recording of the part for future reference. I don't know what prog rock band I'm going to join someday that will have a need for a part in 7/8 time, but you never know. When the time comes, I guess I'll have this to contribute.
Doing fills in 7 is hard. It's not a natural thing to feel when you were raised on groups of 2 and 4. Most people understand 3, I guess. Waltzes and such. Sometimes you'll hear radio stuff in 6 (which is really just 2 groups of 3, or 3 groups of 2, depending). 5 and 7 are a lot trickier, since you're mashing a 2 and a 3, or a 4 and a 3, or 2 twos and a 3 together at once. Makes it harder to find the downbeat. Actually, what I really like to do is carry it over 2 measures, then the "down" beat becomes the "up" beat for the second measure, before it turns back around again.
I went to the KCCC meeting tonight
They were having elections. I am now officially Trustee #3 on the Board of Directors. Which is mostly an honorary title, but it was nice of them to include me.
I decided to celebrate at a place down the road ... with a poke bowl:
After much deliberation, names were left un-bleeped. If we talk about you and you want your name bleeped, please forward your bleeping requests to: complaints@spud.com
