Fuck me Freddy

Is it wrong to continually check back to your own site to see if you’ve updated?
I did do a set tonight, but let’s not talk about it, okay?
Let’s just say that a leaf laying on stage in front of a microphone may have done better.
I’m just saying, is all.
What I DO want to talk about is the geniuses of our time.
Stephen King. Michael Crichton. Chuch Palahniuk.
Such characters. Such innovation. Such a grasp on society, and a kick to its nuts.
Call me morbid, but I honestly spend most of my thinking time worrying about death. And not just my own.
When John Williams dies, who the fuck is going to write movie soundtracks?
This world is going to be absolutely bereft without that guy. Stephen King, write! Hurry! You’re getting on in years, how many more ingenious storylines and plot devices do you have swirling around in there that we may never get to see? Dave Matthews, what have I told you about all that cocaine?! You get back into the recording studio with Leroi and Boyd and YOU MAKE SOME MORE SONGS.
Man, I’m so nervous.
Hollywood can fuck up movies. Disney can fuck up cartoons. Group efforts often fuck up great ideas, but these individuals define our times, and I am so scared of being without them, because some shmucks like Michael Moore and Good Charlotte and PT Anderson are going to FILL IN THEIR SHOES when they die. And soccer moms will run the planet, and the streets will flood with idiocy, and I weep for humanity.
I’m not really sure where that all came from.
Actually, the past couple days have been wrought with an underlying flow of oddity that I can’t quite put my finger on. I blame them currently on a hormonal imbalance, but there’s something else there. Something in my life is weird and doesn’t feel right. Like… like when you’re off kilter all day long and you come home and find out your shirt was on backwards, or your socks don’t match, or you’re wearing a tea set instead of underwear.
It’s not one of my classic impending senses of doom, which I am happy to continue avoiding.
Huh. Well, anyway. If you’ve kept reading through all that flim flammery, plus ten awesome points for you.
I’m gonna go check my website now and see if I updated.
Fit neek?
Yeah, Duddits. Fit neek.

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