Mantra

Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism. Hedonism.

UnRelaytEd, BUT wHen TEENage GURLZ tYpe LiKe thiS iT is REALLY TiTE! Also, it probably takes them a lot longer to think through the best ways to spell things wrong and capitalize random letters.

If Andrew W.K. did disco he'd probably do a song like this. He'd be great for the genre too, come join us Andrew.
Gary's Gang - Party Tonight!

Losing

Weird stuff is happening in my mind and body. I feel as if I've somehow graduated from anti-social to lurker, and my thoughts are getting streamlined and condensed; hammering repetitiously though my brain day in and day out. I need a light at the end of the tunnel. I need to set something on fire. Coffee and muffins no longer excite me and the disapproving looks that I'm receive while I mutter obscenities under my breath, are beginning to become more frequent. I've been watching people around me grab it and run with it; have they already attended that creative writing workshop in the sky? Does any of this make any sense? Are these rhetorical questions? At what point did the Motorcycle Boy drift from being a softspoken mystery-stud to a Joan Rivers nightmare? Can coffee throw you over the edge of sanity and into a pit of fast-paced and frequent bathroom trip despair?

Alright, so shit is messy and its clear to see that the cliff ends a few inches away. Luckily for me ebay has been the safety rope reeling me back in, and although my bank account would like to slap me in the face, bank accounts are not exactly tangible things that can act out on emotion and reason. Like a true American, I've found consolation in consumption.

The Whispers - Tonight

Keep It Alive

Alright, Alright. Gonna let blog breathe again. Caresse his clammy, regressed shoulder blades with lotions and oils in a candlelit room. All the bullshit that kept me from putting more than 5 minutes of effort into this thing per week has now (hopefully) ended, and although I still feel like a total crook for posting up MP3s, I guess I'm just gonna keep on. Blog feels naked and fragile without them; it's almost as if Mark Wahlberg doesn't have a penis, but you wouldn't know it because he's always wearing underwear, but the next thing you know, you are viewing a fully frontal Calvin Klien ad of him completely naked (and penis-less) with his underwear slung over his shoulder in a typical Brando pose. It'd be horrifying, sort of like the sex scene in The Man Who Fell To Earth, but it clearly makes more sense for Bowie to be neuter than Wahlberg. In the picture above, he clearly has a penis (as you can see, he is grabbing it, Edit: Photobucket apparently blocked the photo of Mark grabbing his cock, as it was just too lewd and crude, but here is an equally awesome one of him looking extra tough with a ciggy-rette and showing us some ink. Just search Mark Wahlberg on google images and you'll easily find the aformentioned photo), but I still think that my hypothetical parable still serves as a good example.
Shogun Assassin - Lone Wolf's Theme

Grow Up Self Promotion Volume 4

I know I've sworn off the whole blog thing for the moment, since I feel that with the new copyright laws around the corner I am A) encouraging illegal downloading and B) putting myself up on the chopping block to receive a $50,000 fine of sorts. Granted I am a very small fish in a very large pond, but my luck is horrible and erratic to put it mildly... I feel extremely guilty for contributing to a culture that no longer goes to the record store to search out the real deal; a culture that feels no guilt what-so-ever about straight jacking an album's worth of music from an artist, that is probably working 2 shitty jobs for a full year so they can have 2 hours of studio time. Or their label gives them a fat advance with out explaining to them, that all money spent on the album needs to be fully re-couped, and that they will ultimately receive no promotional help, and are now trapped into a manipulative contract for the next 5 years. Like blog, he is probably now starving to death, delusional, dreams ablaze; all faith for the future of music now charred and disgarded.

In happier news, Grow Up is this Wednesday, May 5th, 2010. Its Cinco de Mayo and we've got a Filipino male DJ (Marky) and a live set by a Polish lady (AmyWhoa). At least the flyer is festive. Maybe we'll tar and feather someone, but substitute the aformentioned ingredients with Guacamole and Chips. Is that a patriotic May 5th statement?