The Week of the Battle Ax
Great start to the day:
8AM. Attendance mandatory. The girl sitting next to me took a shower in her perfume. So fucking strong I could die. Almost pass out from smell. Get a tremendous headache... like staring into the sun for 20 minutes. Feelings of nausea.
Take the Green Line home. Naturally, the country music's too loud for me to listen to my iPod without blowing my head up. Forced to listen to Trace Adkins' "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk." Lyrics, courtesy of CowboyLyrics.com:
We don't care bout the drinkin'
Barely listen to the band
Our hands, they start a shakin'
When she gets the urge to dance
Drivin' everybody crazy
You think you fell in love
Boys, you better keep your distance
You can look but you can't touch
That honkey tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk
(Aww son. That's it, right there boys, that's why we do what we do
It ain't for the money, it ain't for the glory, it ain't for the free whiskey
It's for the badonkadonk.)
Mad niggerish white-trash. There's just no escape. They'll play country music at my funeral just to fucking spite me.
When we were in Nashville, Steve and I dreamt about flying planes into the CMT building.
It's amazing how much a long, hot shower can turn a bad mood around.
8AM. Attendance mandatory. The girl sitting next to me took a shower in her perfume. So fucking strong I could die. Almost pass out from smell. Get a tremendous headache... like staring into the sun for 20 minutes. Feelings of nausea.
Take the Green Line home. Naturally, the country music's too loud for me to listen to my iPod without blowing my head up. Forced to listen to Trace Adkins' "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk." Lyrics, courtesy of CowboyLyrics.com:
We don't care bout the drinkin'
Barely listen to the band
Our hands, they start a shakin'
When she gets the urge to dance
Drivin' everybody crazy
You think you fell in love
Boys, you better keep your distance
You can look but you can't touch
That honkey tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk
(Aww son. That's it, right there boys, that's why we do what we do
It ain't for the money, it ain't for the glory, it ain't for the free whiskey
It's for the badonkadonk.)
Mad niggerish white-trash. There's just no escape. They'll play country music at my funeral just to fucking spite me.
When we were in Nashville, Steve and I dreamt about flying planes into the CMT building.
It's amazing how much a long, hot shower can turn a bad mood around.