Tonight is Monday, so we gonna get dirty at the Saloon. You know, Dirty Mondays. I don't even get off work until 10 p.m. so feel free to go earlier and get us a table.
I think listening only to Wu-Tang is kind of like having a drug problem, there are a lot of ups and downs. With anger comes depression. I'm so gay for Spencer Krug that I have a picture that I took at the Wolf Parade show set as my background on my phone and it breaks what is left of my blackened icy heart every time I open my phone that I can't put on a bandanna and yell along with the accordion in "For the Pier" while I am tearing into the parking lot at school. I have to put on that bandanna and my hoops and quietly mutter "Shame on a Nigga." The flip side to crying jelly bean tears over Sunset Rubdown is that I've been even more intolerant of other people than I usually am. My theory professor is a serious nerd and kind of looks like Falkor, he has managed to go four for four and mention Star Wars in every single lecture thus far. I understand that it's hard to listen and stuff when it's colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra and he drones on about how much it sucks to arrange for American Idol because they want you to double sharp triads or some shit but HOLY FUCK PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY. I got stuck next to this mouth-breather that would alternate between sleeping and texting his probably fat girlfriend, in front of this dumb cum dumpster who kept putting her dirty feet on the back of my chair LIKE I COULDN'T FEEL IT and behind this girl that (was probably raped as a little girl) wears crop tops every goddamn day and is constantly turning around looking for the approval of others. Bitch looks at me like she's Ursula and she's trying to steal my voice to keep in her seashell necklace, but in her case it's a tribal tramp stamp plopped between her freakish back dimples. No, you can't have my approval to keep in your tramp stamp. FUCK ME SATAN. Days like today make me wish I could shape shift into hawk form and fly around the room, scratching people's eyes out. I know I sound like a total sociopath right now but I don't really care, just don't freak out because I said that chick wears slutty shirts because she was probably raped, because I'm probably right. She's at least some kind of a psycho hose beast. I listened to a lot of loveline growing up. I'm pretty much a doctor.
Anyways, I gotta go stick my nails on so I can go to work and stuff but enjoy yet another round of videos I can't watch. This time it's Drive Like Jehu.
"Do You Compute?"
"If It Kills You"
"Hand Over Fist"
Pony Girls buck wild with the trigger,