Made a quick run to Casey's General Store for a can of Long Cut. On my way back, I pull up to a red light with Glycerine from Bush blasting in the background. My steering-wheel air guitar is rockin' the repeatable riffs with professional precision and complete accuracy of every single note. I look to my left as I come to a slow rolling stop to gander upon a crimson red Corvette. To my surprise, I see a made-up hottie behind the wheel with no need for an airbag. While setting up in my gun-metal gray Silverado perch, I continue to glaze over the car and just happen to notice that the hottie takes note of my presence. I decide to move on to the steering-wheel drum set only to realize that Glycerine has no drum-line. She continues to observe my brilliant performance as I make up a quick symbol dance with utter and absolute failure as the light turns green and she taps the gas. I perform my finale rock-fist pump knowing that I made someone smile (and quite possibly laugh) at my expense.
― Don’t yell ‘Judas!’ in a crowded theater (morrisp), Thursday, 9 January 2020 20:02 (four years ago) link
Ooft that's terrible
― or something, Thursday, 9 January 2020 21:12 (four years ago) link
wowwwww
― ingredience (map), Thursday, 9 January 2020 22:24 (four years ago) link
I can't remember enjoying a piece of music writing for the writing itself, in ages. This is so absolutely on point that the snap and sparkle of the prose is sheer delight.https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/inxs-listen-like-thieves/(and I waited for this on the day of release like it was holy scripture, completely lost interest when they blew up after that)
― assert (MatthewK), Sunday, 18 October 2020 11:02 (three years ago) link