Human Behaviour

Scary

Now that is some scary, scary work. Ch-ch-ch-cha-chia is la-la-la-lame-a!

Though, this takes the scary cake,

MP3: The Decemberists - Human Behaviour (Bjork)

The original song is above this ↑↑↑.

T.REX Telegram Sam (studio live)

daft punk- around the world

Dear Terrence Lee:Your order number is _______, and includes the following item(s):
1 of Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs: Show Your Bones
1 of James Brown: 20 All-Time Greatest Hits
1 of Ray Charles: The Best Of The Atlantic Years
1 of Daft Punk: Homework
1 of Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth: The Best Of Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth: Good Life
1 of New Order: The Best Of New Order
1 of Screaming Trees: Ocean Of Confusion - Songs Of The Screaming Trees 1990-1996
1 of T. Rex: Electric Warrior (Expanded & Remastered)
1 of The Walkmen: Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone
1 of White Zombie: La Sexorcisto: Devil Music Vol. 1

Take that BMG! Go ahead and get a class-action lawsuit, and give me some music at $3.80 apiece with free shipping. Yeah, this is all a junkie needs, more intoxicants... more "Greatest Hits". I know, I know, "Greatest hits are for housewives and little girls", but it is all they had to offer that I wanted anyway. I redeemed with T. Rex and Daft Punk, though... right? Those are some stellar picks, huh?
Aw, fuck it. Watch the vids above this.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan/ A stately pleasure-dome decree: –Samuel Taylor Coolridge

You know you are fucking old when somebody asks you, "What are you playing?" and you answer them, "Something from when I graduated high school...

...93 'til Infinity by Souls of Mischief." And they look at you and just shake their head with that Could you be any more ancient and feeble look. This just reminds me that I was in a music malaise when I attended school. The following year, 1994 (if you weren't paying attention) I attended an English course at CSU. The discussion was, get this: Literary criticism is not a solely academic enterprise, because students often discuss the lyrics of their favorite songs in a contemporary type of literary development. ???? Did you get that? The Proffesor then proceeded to discuss the dreamlike imagery of Bono, Robert Smith (wait not that guy, this one) and... check this, Suzanne Vega. Now I was perplexed and shocked, and I bit my tongue because I listened to music and had not verbal masturbation with anyone else on the intended meaning of The Dead Milkmen's "Stuart" or the sole purpose implied by The Stone Roses "Fools Gold". They're just lyrics, not words of wisdom. But not to be outdone with outlandish statements, the Proffesor proceeded to recite Peter Piper by Run D.M.C.

"...And on the mix real quick, and I'd like to say

He's not Flash* but he's fast and his name is Jay.

It goes a one, two, three, and...

Jay's like King Midas, as I was told,

Everything that he touched turned to gold...

...And like all fairy tales end

You'll see Jay again my friend, hough**!"

No wonder I smoked and drank my way through most of my classes.

*The Prof held a round table on the meaning of this rhyme with the word Flash and suggested that there were several different possibilities; citing Grandmaster Flash, another DJ, and the comic book superhero Flash, as the rightful owner to the name in the song. The class actually debated this. It didn't matter the outcome or the final summation, just the fact that we argued this.

**Notice the "old school" spelling of Ho.

Itsa' Comin'!

Click Here

That’s right people. It is time to celebrate a man’s death by consuming mass amounts of alcohol. Who cares how long it actually took for Patrick to become ordained (he was 60 when he returned bringing Christianity and snake repelant to Ireland), let’s toss a Jameson into a half a Guinness, and slam the whole thing down. That is how you honor someone’s death… well, that is what I’ll be doin’. Actually, I am going to take it easy because I have a soccer game the following day. I am a Denver Free Agent, 3rd division, over thirty, amateur. This is the first game of the season, and I can’t wait to play. We have practiced once, will repeat tomorrow, and with luck, the team we are playing will be as out-of-shape as us. Sadly, there are only two possible outcomes: a humiliating loss or a painful win. And sadly again, I am leaning towards the former. I am in shape, but rusty, whereas is everyone else . I am in the CSSA, the most organized amateur group in the world. I had to get an ID card, and get this– we’re not allowed to curse. I am going to lose all my money, because Red cards are a $30 fine. Fuck that. Fuck that cock-sucking, mother-fucking, steaming pile of bullshit! Every time I fuck up on the field, which is often, I say, “Shit”! I say it as Eddie Murphy said in his routine about white people saying shit, with an emphasis on the ssshhh and a strong accent on the t sound. “ShhhiT, shhhiT. Stop fuckin’ pushing me, man!” –EM. It rolls out of my mouth like CO2, naturally.
Man Man is coming. I can buy their album at the show. I always like doing this, as I feel that they get more money this way. Ratatat are comin' too! And saint's be praised, Animal Collective are headed up.
Well, I have something to do, so I’ll post some pictures later at Flickr of my game. They won’t be pretty, but what is?