Monday, December 14, 2009

I want your horror. I want your design.

I had a textversation with Phoebe last night about the fact that I was secretly listening to Lady GaGa on my headphones, in the dark, alone (possibly while hiding under a blanket). She agreed to still be friends with me as admitting my misdeeds was the first step to recovery. I was also listening to "Suddenly" by Billy Ocean and the theme song to The Greatest American Hero, which may just be unforgivable. It was a new low for me. I feel dirty.

If I ever start a band (oh that high school dream that will never die), I am for SURE going to wear animal costumes while we play. I say that now because it's been a few months since I donned the "Finger Lickin' Strip Tease" suit. I've forgotten how it feels like boiling death when you're in there. Much like how female cats forget there are barbs on male cat junk that shreds them during mating (cause for the unmistakeable howl during cat love)...they keep on sticking their cat butts in the air. Such is my feeling towards animal costumes. What was my point again?

Oh yeah. Starting a band with a gimick.

I'll get on that in 2010.

This morning I was handed a bag full of canned pineapples which is similar to handing me a bag of severed baby bunny heads. I am utterly repulsed. I'm sure there are far worse things to be reulsed by, like that guy in Cleveland with all the dead bodies in his basement...but I'm giving this one to the pineapples. They are certainly the devil's fruit. Don't try and tell me differently because I'm stubborn where foods I hate that start with P are concerned.

I think there is going to be a 30th Birthday Party (it will really be my 31st but since my 30th didn't go the way I planned, I'm calling a do-over) in February. It will be the kick-off to bringing basement parties back at the Ol' Kentucky Corral. If you know any awesome bands I should have play at my par-tay, let me know. It's not a TRUE Ol' Kentucky basement party without bands. Though karaoke is always an option...


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