How does it make you feel when?...

I remember driving with a girlfriend the year before last and a song came on, I believe it was by Finger Eleven and the lyrics went thus:
Well I’m not paralyzed/But I seem to be struck by you/
I want to make you move/Because you’re standing still.

She squealed and turned up the radio and I was dissapointed at my lack of enthusiasm. Because while the tune was catchy, it was ultimately the lyrics that angered me. I feel the same now when I hear a popular hip-hop tune which has maybe a great sample from another artist, a fantastic beat.. aaand then the lyrics are urging me to slap that all on the flo', slap that give me some mo'. Or pointing out that "who's a ho? she's a ho? I said that you's a ho."
(Apple Bottom Jeans, Boots With the Fuuur...I'll save that for later)

I'd been dwelling on what makes a great song nowadays with the re-influx of pop driven hits and I remembered reading a column by John Mayer (yes, surprisingly) maybe 4 years ago...I want to say GQ. Whatever. - anyways his premise was this: chord progressions, studied hi's and lo's, it's fairly predictable what will moisten the underpants of the cookie cutter masses (see: 30 Seconds to Mars)

A fun side note is if you look at Disney songwriters you couple brilliant lyrics with brilliant composing and voila, who hasn't belted out a hearty rendition of "Part of Your World" while drunk with friends? If you haven't, I haven't either.

Back to topic, it's always the words that snag me. I'm a big fan of language and I've had fairly monotone tunes become favorites because of interesting lyricism. Two that come to mind and not even close to inclusive:
Broken One - Luke Doucet and
Sorry Hearts - Blue October

I'm interested in opinions here. If you don't feel the same, argue your case. They may or may not be laughed at.


"I like to hop, I like to hop on pop" - Dr. Seuss.

MILF is fine. But it'd be cooler if you were a WILL-F. Which I think is pretty SILF- explanatory. Oh god, that was a gay pun. I've become my mother!


Impossible love.

I found this picture on deviantart.com a while back and it's been my backdrop for a while. I think it's just perfect.

FB. Myspace. Twitter. Hi5. Blogger. Match.com.

Ok. The problem I see is how many 'social networking sites' can you be on before you're not 'connecting' anymore and they are the very things keeping you from having a physical social life? It's almost an oxymoron.
I abandon hope. We'll all turn into couch manatees with the only dense bones left in our bodies belonging to our fingers. Maybe the arms will morph into our torsos too. (Oh that's only for the ones who sit like me, slumped, belly distended)




It would be cool if one day I woke up with a pair of very bushy eyebrows. I would not be shy of them.

True story.

Folding blankets is fun..if you're good at it. and also if they're geometrically even.
Who made those tricksy half-square/half-curved ones? They should be smothered in their own senseless creations.

All 50 of my roommates are sleeping!

My apartment looks like fire and ice collided this night and the result is pretty ferocious. I nodded solemnly as Seth went off to work and declared how fervently I was going to clean this sty up whilst he was at work.
Damn my bad attitude!

It still looks like a crack team of intelligencia stormed the place looking for evidence, overturning couch cushions and leaving plates of unfinished sandwiches in their wake (BLT's. extra mayo, if I'm not mistaken). Further, I think I may have found fungus growing in the corner of the kitchen out of some molding coffee grinds. This could either be very disgusting or my attempt at ecological friendly compost recycling. I choose the latter.

Perspective, my friends, is the first step in growing to love oneself.