Greil Marcus
I leave work for the last time in one hour.
Also, Comedy Central is running Stella in back to back episodes at 2AM all this week.
I'm reading a book called Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century that is blowing my mind out my asshole. This is more fun to experience than it is to visualize; sorry.
Best of all, my computer now has the greatest song ever committed to tape. I am speaking, obviously, of "California Girls" by the Beach Boys.
My life is falling apart, but all of these things make it seem pretty damned great.
(Stupid aside that maybe Jim Chorman will find funny: aged 12 and 13, the two of us were hella into Guns N' Roses, who have this song called "Don't Damn Me." It's a dumb song, but to its credit, it contains a great sensational rock n' roll coda. Axl counts down the crash with one of the best "Bring it on home!" style exhortations I've ever heard: "All riiiiight," he screeches, "that sucked!" BWAUNNH. Jim once told me a story that, counting down the new year's ball after a particularly gruesome year, he cued up the end so that the final BWAUNNH hit just as the lights flashed 1994 (or 1995, or whatever fucking year it was). I wish I had a copy of that song so I can play it as I pull out of the driveway.)
Also, Comedy Central is running Stella in back to back episodes at 2AM all this week.
I'm reading a book called Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century that is blowing my mind out my asshole. This is more fun to experience than it is to visualize; sorry.
Best of all, my computer now has the greatest song ever committed to tape. I am speaking, obviously, of "California Girls" by the Beach Boys.
My life is falling apart, but all of these things make it seem pretty damned great.
(Stupid aside that maybe Jim Chorman will find funny: aged 12 and 13, the two of us were hella into Guns N' Roses, who have this song called "Don't Damn Me." It's a dumb song, but to its credit, it contains a great sensational rock n' roll coda. Axl counts down the crash with one of the best "Bring it on home!" style exhortations I've ever heard: "All riiiiight," he screeches, "that sucked!" BWAUNNH. Jim once told me a story that, counting down the new year's ball after a particularly gruesome year, he cued up the end so that the final BWAUNNH hit just as the lights flashed 1994 (or 1995, or whatever fucking year it was). I wish I had a copy of that song so I can play it as I pull out of the driveway.)