an evening with........malaise
wouldn't that be a great band name? wait, who am i "talking" to? last time i checked, no one reads this horseshit. horses. seabiscuit. you guys. anyways. on saturday night, over beers & jagermeister to try and rid of the killer headache i was rockin (oddly enough, the drink DIDN'T help), i made the following inquiry to my favorite regulars at my fave bar
1. if i started a Heart cover band, would you come and see us?
if i dream it, it will happen? it'd be totally hot too. of course, i need to find musicians. moreover, i need to find musicians who are dedicated to bringing the sweet and creepy sounds of Heart back and with a vengeance. oh, and in order for me to actually perform on a stage, in front of strangers, i'll be needing about 4 bowls of coke and shots of jager lined up before we "go on." when i close my eyes.
p.s. the band would be called Feart, not malaise.
in other news, the air band that i'm in, 30 Helens Agreed, is so not in the works. but i've got the drums DOWN. and the lead guitarist (and visionary) has her part down too. we're working on it. it's hard when none of us own instruments or really care when we're sober. and we're thinking that maybe no one would actually pay to see their friends not do anything but rock out in the air. i'd pay. i'm supportive like that though. in fact, i endured seeing The Worst Band Ever play prior to my friends' band play at some hoos' battle of the band thing at Illinois' Finest "Club," Pop's. i even paid the $6 cover fee (after getting brutally rebuffed from using my free pass to get in) to sit through this. i even went to illinois to see this. i went to pop's on valentine's day. i went to pop's on valentine's day. i went to pop's on valentine's day.
i'm still gonna rule the roost though.
it's not a sandwich any longer!
so i was watching the NBA All-Star game last night over at my peeps house last night and it's incredible, after all this time, i'm still *THIS* much in it to win it with allen iverson. the ol' AI. the Answer. i love him. i want to lick on his entire body. i would do this during halftime and not be bothered with the no doubt goat smell that would be attached to his testicles. i'd do this with a smile on my face. those eyes! those tattoos! that arm thing! that hair! why isn't he mine? no, seriously. he already fills the apparent prerequisite and not only has some babies, but he's also got a lady friend. perfect! i guess what kills it all is the fact that he's got money. spoiler! and it's so sad that with all of my love for him, i still predicted that the West would triumph. stupid shaq, stupid kobe. i hate them. i can say/type that with a straight face and with little to no guilt for using such a strong word. in fact, when picking my players for my fantastical team for NBA fantasy action, i did not pick either. is this important? i don't know. i do know that my team is ranked 5 out of 7. give it time. i feel like even if we don't get first place, we've won. i feel that strongly and deep in my loins.
burning.
1. if i started a Heart cover band, would you come and see us?
if i dream it, it will happen? it'd be totally hot too. of course, i need to find musicians. moreover, i need to find musicians who are dedicated to bringing the sweet and creepy sounds of Heart back and with a vengeance. oh, and in order for me to actually perform on a stage, in front of strangers, i'll be needing about 4 bowls of coke and shots of jager lined up before we "go on." when i close my eyes.
p.s. the band would be called Feart, not malaise.
in other news, the air band that i'm in, 30 Helens Agreed, is so not in the works. but i've got the drums DOWN. and the lead guitarist (and visionary) has her part down too. we're working on it. it's hard when none of us own instruments or really care when we're sober. and we're thinking that maybe no one would actually pay to see their friends not do anything but rock out in the air. i'd pay. i'm supportive like that though. in fact, i endured seeing The Worst Band Ever play prior to my friends' band play at some hoos' battle of the band thing at Illinois' Finest "Club," Pop's. i even paid the $6 cover fee (after getting brutally rebuffed from using my free pass to get in) to sit through this. i even went to illinois to see this. i went to pop's on valentine's day. i went to pop's on valentine's day. i went to pop's on valentine's day.
i'm still gonna rule the roost though.
it's not a sandwich any longer!
so i was watching the NBA All-Star game last night over at my peeps house last night and it's incredible, after all this time, i'm still *THIS* much in it to win it with allen iverson. the ol' AI. the Answer. i love him. i want to lick on his entire body. i would do this during halftime and not be bothered with the no doubt goat smell that would be attached to his testicles. i'd do this with a smile on my face. those eyes! those tattoos! that arm thing! that hair! why isn't he mine? no, seriously. he already fills the apparent prerequisite and not only has some babies, but he's also got a lady friend. perfect! i guess what kills it all is the fact that he's got money. spoiler! and it's so sad that with all of my love for him, i still predicted that the West would triumph. stupid shaq, stupid kobe. i hate them. i can say/type that with a straight face and with little to no guilt for using such a strong word. in fact, when picking my players for my fantastical team for NBA fantasy action, i did not pick either. is this important? i don't know. i do know that my team is ranked 5 out of 7. give it time. i feel like even if we don't get first place, we've won. i feel that strongly and deep in my loins.
burning.
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