Explosions.
Well I guess you guys haven't heard from me in a while. (Well, a few days.) I've been busy, with, y'know... stuff. I volunteered at the library yesterday and today. I get to sit behind a desk and look official! I even have a little phone. The only person who calls me is my mummy, though. (Who is in the other room working at the reference desk.) When I'm not on the phone, I am entering people's names into the computer, or putting new labels on the JV Fiction. Yay.
And I might be going to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame! Today when I got tired of making labels, I spent 20 minutes composing a persuasive e-mail to my parents with all the information on the museum you could ever want, and many reasons why we should go there. More yay.
I have been Getting the Led Out every day, with my mother. There is a lot of tension in our household, as we constantly try to prove who is in fact the bigger LedHead. When I wake up in the morning, (I've started waking up in the actual MORNING, whoaaa) I find that the walls of my home are pulsating with the epic chord progression of When the Levee Breaks. Car rides to the local supermarket have never been this much fun, because now Black Dog is the soundtrack. Evenings are spent viewing Zeppelin concert footage and arguing over who's hotter, Robert or Jimmy. Mum hasn't noticed that I stole all of her Iggy Pop MP3s, because she was too busy compressing the files from my Physical Graffiti CD. Usually in my house, when you hear an orgasmic wail followed by some expertly plucked bass notes, spastic exploding drums on speed, and a mind-blowing guitar solo with the distortion turned up that melts the air waves, it's coming from my speakers. But nowadays, it's probably coming from my mothers.
In other news, my dad went to Okalahoma to visit his brother, and upon his return he brought explosives! Between the loud-as-fuck Led Zeppelin, and the rockets that we are going to be setting off in the backyard, the next few days are going to be fun. Apologies in advance to my neighbor, who, for the record, still thinks I'm 2 people.
And I might be going to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame! Today when I got tired of making labels, I spent 20 minutes composing a persuasive e-mail to my parents with all the information on the museum you could ever want, and many reasons why we should go there. More yay.
I have been Getting the Led Out every day, with my mother. There is a lot of tension in our household, as we constantly try to prove who is in fact the bigger LedHead. When I wake up in the morning, (I've started waking up in the actual MORNING, whoaaa) I find that the walls of my home are pulsating with the epic chord progression of When the Levee Breaks. Car rides to the local supermarket have never been this much fun, because now Black Dog is the soundtrack. Evenings are spent viewing Zeppelin concert footage and arguing over who's hotter, Robert or Jimmy. Mum hasn't noticed that I stole all of her Iggy Pop MP3s, because she was too busy compressing the files from my Physical Graffiti CD. Usually in my house, when you hear an orgasmic wail followed by some expertly plucked bass notes, spastic exploding drums on speed, and a mind-blowing guitar solo with the distortion turned up that melts the air waves, it's coming from my speakers. But nowadays, it's probably coming from my mothers.
In other news, my dad went to Okalahoma to visit his brother, and upon his return he brought explosives! Between the loud-as-fuck Led Zeppelin, and the rockets that we are going to be setting off in the backyard, the next few days are going to be fun. Apologies in advance to my neighbor, who, for the record, still thinks I'm 2 people.