Not a hymn.
Hello, people that read this. I enjoy watching tv and movies at home, but I have a real problem getting through shows. I’ll be watching the show like a normal person, but then whenever some music plays that interests me I end up pausing the show and going on a music downloading/listening binge that tends to last the rest of the night, preventing me from finishing the episode. Oh well.
Here’s what happened tonight, which compelled me to write something on my deserted blog. I was watching an episode of House when all of a sudden I hear an old Cy Coleman tune delivered by a familiar voice. I pause the episode and confirm my suspicion that Fiona Apple actually did a version of the song. I then find out that she did another one of his songs too. Then, while listening to them I stumble across a link which leads to a link, leading to another link, etc. Next thing I know I’m listening to Dio and getting all excited, remembering my favorite Iron Maiden songs…
These aren’t necessarily my favorite versions of the songs, but I do love Fiona Apple.
To fully appreciate this, I suppose you’d have to understand how excited music makes me (which I could never clearly articulate, so I’ll save both of us some time. You’ll just have to take my word for it). It’s at this point, lost in my auditorily-induced holodeck that I realized how bat shit insane I am. Seriously. I am so easily and unbelievably immersed in whatever music I’m listening to (assuming it’s of notable quality) that it can instantly transport me somewhere, a time, a place, a clear recording of some significant event in my life that’s either happened before or one that I hope to experience sometime in the future.
Living thousands of miles from anyone that I have anything resembling a real connection with, I spend a lot of time by myself. The isolation really does wear on you and I often think about how great it would be just to have dinner and a real conversation with one of my close friends. I spend hours every night listening to music, sifting through songs trying to find the perfect “high” for that particular evening. The funny thing, considering my situation, is that on the nights I do find the right song – for at least in those few minutes while listening, there isn’t anyone that I’d want to share it with, even if I could. It’s mine.
The drivers out here are fucking terrible! Everyone drives like a timid little bitch, it’s ridiculous. OH!! They slow down considerably for no reason whenever they are changing lanes, NOBODY understands the concept of a passing lane, and people are afraid to change lanes when you’re trying to let them in so they just drive the same speed with their blinker on and never change lanes after you’ve slowed down slightly and given them a window. They also drive slow as hell. ugh
In his prime, Richard Dean Anderson was one handsome badass.
Here’s a funny joke, a dildo, a hungry hungry hippo, a bacon tuxedo and some fucked up shit: