Thursday, May 29, 2008

Singin' songs til the night turns into grey

I am another step closer to living the dream. My neighbor, Jim, from whom I sporadically and too infrequently take lessons, plays guitar in a successful, local bluegrass band. He went to Berkeley School of Music in Boston. He is a phenomenal musician.

(BTW- do NOT get a fucking wireless keyboard if you can type really fast. I type fast and my new, super-expensive wireless keyboard sucks BALLSACK. My typos are way up because you h-a-v-e t-o d-e-l-i-b-e-r-a-t-e-l-y hammer each key.

It blows.

In fact, I have never seen a ballsack sucked with such vigor in my entire life, and I have been on the internet almost daily since 1997.

(^^That might be the best sentence I have ever written.)

Give me a fucking cord and hook it up to the machine.

How far away from my computer do I need to be, anyway?

What am I going to do, stand up for a keytar solo when "Separate Ways" comes up on I-tunes?

This experiment is over.)

He swung by to return my Beatles Anthology DVD set. (If you haven't seen it, and you are the slightest bit interested in good music or rock and roll, get it on netflix. It's absolutely essential.)

I told him about the soundproof room, and I told him my intentions for it. I should mention that it was pouring rain; I hadn't seen Jim in well over a month and his hair had gotten really long.

He started laughing so hard when I told him about the room and he said, "You are going to go deaf, dude. You need to get some earplugs."

I said, "What?"


I locked things down with my mortgage today. My credit, like my S.A.T. score, is freaky good. Bumpin' 800, which is good both ways. (Josh loves this pararaph.)

Why wouldn't it be?

I pay my bills and I always have. Straight gangster.

The S.A.T. score was because I'm smart. You can't bullshit a standardized test.

On a repeated basis, for years.

Th key (fucking keyboard... "th"), though... is I am also a smart ass.

It is the secret to my success.

And credit score.

After a while, you can forget about the "smart," and just focus on the "ass."

It's what I like to call, "becoming a lawyer."

^^Look. You can smell the lawyer on me already. I think I am 22 or 23 there.

Maginificent bastard.

Youth is wasted on the young.

^^That right there is the perfect storm of youth, S.A.T. scores, smart, ass, and a whole lot of hungover Santa.

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What in the world do you think you are?
A superstar?
Well, right you are!

One story from this weekend:

The owner of the lodge described below was golfing with some buddies several years ago.

One of the members of their foursome, Brad, pointed at a guy and said, "That's Evel Kneivel!"

The other guys said, "Nah..."

"Yes he is!"

"No, he isn't!"

"Yes, he is. Wanna bet?"

So they bet, and the four of them walked toward the guy in question.

When they were about ten feet away, the guy looked at them.

Brad pointed at him and said, "You're Evel Kneivel, aren't you?"

The man replied declaratively...


That's awesome.