Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Angela, beaurocracy, Ben Stiller, bloopers, books, CD, cheesy, cleaning, cliche, deleted scenes, Disney, epilogue, Ernest, escapist, hobo, India, intelligence, Jack Sparrow, LA Film Festival, La Poo Poo, MovieCube, music, Pineapple Express, premiere, Public Enemies, Ralph's, RedBox, soundtrack, stopmotion, summer, Sundays at Tiffany's, Sushi, taboo, Tropic Thunder, Twilight, Wal-Mart, walking, wizard costume
Hola, it is summer! Hola hola hola. Tomorrow I’m going to the LA Film Festival avec mine journalism internship. Excited? Actually, not that much, despite the fact that I asked for us to go. To be honest, I asked because “Public Enemies” is premiering there – but the $100 ticket price soon dampened my dreams.
I’d like to direct you all to Ernest and La Poo Poo’s blogs, where updates have been posted for you.
Every morning, I wake up and feel like something’s off. Something is off – I should be at school. It’s going to take me a bit of time to get used to this freedom. Usually I’m take no time in adjusting, and it’s at the middle of summer that I start missing school. Oh vell.
Next week I plan to go stake out the “Public Enemies” premiere with some friends. For now I’ll be content with finally doing some reading I never had time for during the school year. I went to Costco and bought three books, two of which are going to be returned tomorrow. The one remaining book is Public Enemies“, I’m almost ashamed to admit. Okay, Johnny Depp did inevitably factor into my reasoning, but I really am interested in reading about gangsters in the 30’s.
I should have known Sundays at Tiffany’s was going to be one big cheesy romance. The title indicates something that runs throughout the book – good writing exchanged for a quick and clever joke that is really just a cliche with a twist. Basically, every character says something clever every time they speak. The book, I’m sorry to say, reads like a mediocre fanfiction. At times I thought I was reading Twilight. The tenses kept switching back and forth. I could forgive the writer if the girl had actually died, but no. It turns out it was her mother, and so the girl’s mysterious vomiting is laid aside. Did I forget to mention there’s an epilogue? A bad sign. Harry Potter 7 had an epilogue, and that book may have been the worst out of the series. Well yes, in this book they have children too.
I’m willing to like a cheesy book if it’s somewhat well-written, even if it’s escapist and romantic. But this book was just a huge disappointment. The premise lures you in. Don’t be lured in.
Okay, book review’s over.
I’m doing my summer cleaning right now. Gah, it is a big fat hassle. I spent today cleaning to the tune of all my old CD’s. Embarassing Disney/nonDisney stuff, to say the least. Whatever, it’s a part of me I guess.
On the last day of school, we walked over to Towne Center and had lunch. Now I know what it feels like to be a hobo, because I only had three bucks on me so I had two things from the dollar menu at McDonald’s. Anyway, we saw a lot of old elementary school buddies, and not so buddies. I’ll just say that I’m grateful for being at my high school rather than the normal one. No matter how weird some of us get, we’re all guaranteed to be somewhat intelligent and sensible.
Then we walked to Sushi’s house and sat with her. Oh, wow. She’s in India right now. She was leaving midnight that day, but we just…walked into her house. And borrowed her wizard costume, huzzah! I hope Jonathan fits into it. Then Angela decided to go home because it was way too hot, so she left and we followed.
Oh yesh, Sushi’s keyboard makes the perfect noises for our soundtrack.
At Angela’s house, we ate her food, as usual. And played Taboo. I’ve decided – we will play at my birthday. Huzzah. Except that everyone kept using me as an example.
Amanda: Katherine is weird, right? So you would tell her to see a…
The answer is shrink, and yes, I got that one. Afterwards we went upstairs and Sunyoung had to go home. Amanda fell asleep for half an hour, Angela watched 90210 on her computer and played facebook games. I read H&M magazine. Did you know you can hire your own paparazzi for a day? Um…it’s the worst part of being a celebrity. But okay, if it floats your boat.
Finally Angela had to return her DVD’s to Ralph’s moviecube box, so off we went to borrow some more. Stupid box wouldn’t work. That’s the second time it hasn’t worked for me. We asked the cashier but she said, “We’re not associated with the box, but if you have any question you can call this number.” Beaurocratic much. I gave her much subtle attitude. Hahaha passive aggressive. No matter, we drove to Wal-Mart, with the much better Redbox, and rented “Tropic Thunder”. Of course we were sad that Redbox did not have “Pineapple Express”, which MovieCube did.
“Tropic Thunder”, as you may have heard, is one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen. Ben Stiller, you have redeemed your entire career with one movie.
Thinking of holding a meeting next week with everyone involved in the stopmotion. “Thinking…of putting in French doors actually.” Oh Jack Sparrow, why is your voice so strange in that deleted scene/blooper?
That is all. Goodnight and goodluck, everyone.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry asian man, argument, fun, music, pigeons, SAT, school, summer
MUSIC: What do you call little kids who sit down at a piano and start playing tunes that they’ve heard, without taking lessons? Just curious, because it’s a common scenario.
I don’t think that I’ve stopped being good at violin, just that something was lost during those four years. I used that because it’s really been the biggest thing that’s happened to me. Pathetic, but I think we should put the topic to rest, or it’s going to turn into an Internet showdown, and I hate those things.
As to your questions, I just got them a couple days ago. “Out in the open” means I’m pretty honest with my dad that I have a blog, rather than alluding to it. Yes, that’s my name. Yes, I’m Asian. Yes, I’m probably the same age as you. And yes – just kidding. No. Because if you were a 55 year-old creepy man and I were the same age as you I’d be a 55 year-old creepy man.
We now return to our usual broadcast.
I have never been so excited for summer, I’ve usually been indifferent to it. That’s a shame, because I only have two really free summers left, and this is one of them. There’s so much I’ve suddenly realized I want to do and what with SATs and such taking up my summers, that’s a bummer. Huzzah, I’ve rhymed.
Still, school’s almost over and we’ll have fun. I’d still love to make “Angry Asian Man”. Twould be fun and an awesome experience.
There are pigeons in our roof and their eggs just hatched. The sounds above our heads are driving us crazy, especially my dad. I could here the babies going “EEEEH EEEEEHHHH EEEEEEEHHH” And now there are these claw sounds like their learning to walk or something. It’s really annoying, and really, just think of all the germs.
I’m going to cut this post short so I can start working on what will hopefully be a weekly feature.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: anger, angry asian man, banquet, big girl, blog, chinese, cuisine, cultural differences, Dr. Frank, driving, Final Cut Pro, fun, Ghost Town, girls, happiness, ignorance, King Kong, LA, languages, laptop, life, Lyle the Crocodile, mid-life crisis, music, old movie posters, PC, prodigy, record, Ricky Gervaise, stop-motion, the Cowardly Lion, The Wizard of Oz, violin
I won’t hide the fact that as I read MUSIC’s comment my heart rate increased dramatically and I had to take a few deep breaths. I actually tried to find my happy place, an activity I believed only existed in mediocre romantic comedies. The good news is, I found it.
I will say that the point of sharing that part of my past wasn’t for telling the world I was a really good violin player. The heart of that post, in my opinion, is the part about how no one is willing to believe that great things are happening around them. And not just in my case.
I do realize how extreme the word “prodigy” is. I use it lightly, as I do fatteh, ugly, and poop. As I was typing, I paused before putting that down – but I get slightly emotional when I think about violin – as pathetic as that sounds, and decided to go through with it anyway.
It’s gotten better, though. Before I thought that I had pretty much wasted my life – bear with my former self here – because I had been given a talent and, well you know the story. I don’t pretend that I’m the only one in this situation, or the only one given musical ability. But the reason for my premature mid-life crisis was that I didn’t really have any other purpose in life – I was still looking for things. If you’ve been following for the past month or so, you’ll know I’ve found something, if not it.
That still didn’t give my friends the right to roll their eyes at my then mid-life crisis. When you’re watching from the outside everything is belittled. Knowing that, I try to see things from the bereaved person’s perspective – maintaining a balance, so to speak. And it doesn’t give them the right to crack jokes about my behavior then either. What someone did in the past is laced with ignorance – because hindsight and all that. They may know they were stupid, but – well, there’s just something very rude about making fun of it.
Back to the happy. We – HOLY GOD IS THAT “BIG GIRL” ON THE TV NO DONT CHANGE THE MUSIC DAMMIT
A human stop-motion is in the works for this summer, and it’s a lot more plausible than “Angry Asian Man” and other stop-motion ideas I’ve had. Once I talk to my buddy, we’ll see if “Angry Asian Man” is happening this summer. I’m pretty sure of the human stop-motion though. It’s for a teenage cast, and it doesn’t take itself as seriously as “Angry Asian Man”.
We’ll be asking people to be in it starting Monday.
EDIT: We left the house – another false start for the San Diego Zoo.
Anyway, it’s pretty much out in the open that I have a blog now. I hope Fatherman isn’t looking for it. He asked me what was on my blog and presented the story of a Taiwanese girl whose blog won awards for its photos of Taiwanese farmers.
My blog – doesn’t have a point. I don’t really want to have a point, but I’d like for it to be more than just my day-t0-day events. Which is why I try to share my thoughts rather than what happens to me that day. Would you rather it have a point or to go on like this…I don’t know, myself. I think I’d feel restricted if I could only talk about food, or furniture.
Although this is my only record of my life, and for posterity there are some mundane things I can’t leave out.
Last night was the Journalism internship banquet. Being with a group of girls and just letting go, having fun – that was really great. I sort of liked the relative anonymity. They know nothing of my old personality, so I could just start over and be a real girl. Sounds weird, but I’m rather reserved about letting my feminine side shine through. It’s a stigma, I think, that a lot of little girls have to deal with. Because every tells them not to be such a girly girl and suck it up.
Permit me to rant a little here – I just finished watching “Ghost Town”, and while overall an ordinary movie, meaning it wasn’t extraordinary, there was just one part that was a bit unbearable for me to watch. Don’t tell me it’s just a joke, or that I’m overreacting. The part where Ricky Gervais makes fun of the Chinese because we have funny names. He tries to justify it by saying it’s not about our faces, but it still reeks of ignorance. Everyone has different languages, and we should respect that by recognizing that things may sound funny – but it means something else, and to a large group of people it makes perfect sense. I’m not usually one to nitpick about racism or whatever. For the most part, I ignore racist jokes because it’s really not worth my time. And I don’t know why this time it mattered, it just really bothered me. I was squirming in my seat, disgusted.
DR. FRANK IS ON TV MIYA LOOK NOW LOOK NOW
I loathe Chinese buffets. And I am only slightly annoyed at the people who go there for the orange chicken and fortune cookies only. Like the couple who exchanged the following conversation today:
Girl: I saw people eating crab legs!
Boy: Ugh.
Thank you, American couple. Thank you for that enlightening insight. I really don’t know what to say to that. I can’t call it ignorance, because then I wouldn’t be any better than Ricky Gervais in “Ghost Town”. I wanted to pick up a crab leg and tear into before their faces, saying, “Mmmm. Yummy.” But sometimes I think that Western cuisine, while good to eat, really pales in comparison to Eastern cuisine. When I want something complicated and a mix of tastes in my mouth, I go for Asian food. When I want just plain good, I go for steak and mashed potatoes.
Today I realized I wouldn’t mind having an old movie poster in my room. A classic would be preferred, just for their aesthetic. I saw a couple today in K-Mart, but only King Kong, which was cool to look at but terrifying, and The Wizard of Oz, which I was terrified of as a child. The Cowardly Lion still strikes fear into my heart. I once made my family change hotel rooms at MGM because there was a “Wizard of Oz” theme going on.
I don’t really have much more to say at the moment. I haven’t been following my favorite blogs lately because I don’t want to risk letting another virus loose on my dad’s laptop. I really want a laptop of my own. Then again, I really want to learn Final Cut Pro – it’s the industry standard – but my dad insists on getting a PC first.
As my activities get more and more hectic, I realize the need for the ability to drive. I need it now – or my dad’s never going to get a moment of rest. But I’m going to miss driving an hour with him to LA every week – and falling asleep for half the drive.
Whell then. How many times have I ended a post awkwardly? Almost every time. Huzzah, goodbye. See you later, Alligator. I want to read Lyle the Crocodile.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: believe, classical, Doubt, extraordinary, fandom, fansites, happiness, Johnny Depp, life, movies, music, nature, organic, past, Pirates of the Caribbean, prodigy, regret, violin, violinist
I’ve just returned from the spring concert – which answers the question of whether or not I play music. By asking this question, you unleash a long and tragic - only to me – backstory.
Before I was four years old, I started learning to play the piano from the daughter of my parents’ friends. She introduced me to her violin teacher, who decided to take me under his wing, so to speak. Before I go on, I’d really appreciate if you would stow all cynicism under your seat.
I’ll start by saying that when I returned, he told me I had been his favorite student.
I started learning violin when I was four-years-old. My Russian teacher put a lot of effort into me, because he knew I had an excellent ear. Thanks to him, I built up quality sound and technique. The only flaw really was that I had yet to learn music theory. I played by ear. I was, as many people have taken it upon themselves to sarcastically put it, a prodigy of sorts.
Like any young violinist, I hated practicing. Playing made me itch and have to go to the bathroom. My mother, believing in me, ran after me with a clothes hanger, trying various techniques of motivating me to play. She made me play in the kitchen, where I could time my three hours a day practice time with the microwave and my one minute bathroom breaks.
By the time I was nine, my life had been filled with arguments where my parents threatened to stop my lessons, and I would cry. Of course I knew I had talent, and I wasn’t going to let that go, even if I hated violin. One summer my parents decided I should take a break and return in the fall. That break lasted for four years.
Until I was thirteen, I always thought it was my fault, because I had hated practicing. Later I learned that it was also financial.
We finally called him two years ago, and by that time he had moved out of his private lessons in his home and set up a music school. He basically ran the school, taking in only young children with a lot of potential, and everyone else went to other teachers that taught at the school.
He said that he had waited a year for me to return. I know, sounds like a cheesy love story, but bear with me. It’s almost over. It was a waste, because he would have taught me for free, he thought I had that much potential. I always felt a pressure to include musician on my list of possible careers, and frankly that pressure has not gone away. The only difference is that the pressure comes from myself now.
But now he wouldn’t take me as a student because it was too late – I was too old. For two years I was taught by an Armenian teacher, a woman. She was emotional but it’s nice that I learned from a different aspect.
Again, my parents said we were taking a break so we could go to my grandma’s funeral. I haven’t returned from that break. Sometimes I’d like to take things into my own hands and call my teacher. But I no longer have anything to bargain with. She wouldn’t take me back for free now.
Whenever I tell people about violin, they scoff and laugh at how highly I think of myself. I’m not someone who would ever think highly of myself until I know that I am what I say I am. I doubt it every day, I doubt whether I remember my childhood wrong. Once I quit six years ago, I relegated myself to the ranks of average people. People who play violin as a side hobby. I was trained to become a soloist, really.
The thing that bothers me is that no one ever believes me. They say they understand, but always with a pinch of mockery. Just because I’m your friend, because I’m a normal human being, that I’m tangibly here, doesn’t mean that I have to be normal. I think everyone’s hiding something extraordinary in their past. Or in their future. Everything spectacular starts small. Why is it so impossible that your classmate, your friend, was a prodigy, once?
All that “Just believe” stuff makes me want to puke too, but I can’t help but think that it is true, we just don’t acknowledge it.
That’s part of what makes me so determined to stick with violin – because people don’t believe. But time is running out because I keep getting older. Soon playing well will be nothing extraordinary.
Today TheRealFatteh was talking to me at the concert, and she was praising her freshman friend. I heard these words come out of her mouth, “He’s really good, better than y-”. I was looking at her somewhat intensely then, because I knew what she was going to say. She met my eyes and abruptly changed the sentence. “The only people ahead of him are seniors. That’s really amazing.”
I haven’t come to terms with violin yet. I sort of hope I never do. But now my life has expanded so much – to film, church, and just plain happiness and pretty things. I really wish I had had the interest and love for violin I have now, and that my parents had been able to support me financially. But that’s in the past – I can’t always be wallowing in regret.
In other news, I sense that our respective sides of the fandom argument are sprouting from personal preference. I know that as a PotC fan I always wanted to defend PotC, no matter how ridiculous. I wasn’t the only one. I’m going to leave the argument here, although I do recommend that for some of the most courteous intelligent fans I have yet to come across, find a good Johnny Depp fansite. A good, really informative one. Usually the good ones have their own domain names.
I should really start homework now. Today will probably be an all-nighter. Depressing, because my eyelids are already drooping. I can’t believe that just two hours ago I was playing with orchestra onstage. It’s surreal, the stage.
I love the organic things in life – music and nature, for example. Movies make me happy, but nothing really compares to the instinctive, primitive happiness that comes from playing music.
I’ll admit, I am somewhat of a music snob when it comes to my instrument. I’ve mainly learned classical all my life, but occasionally I play PotC or some song by ear. Classical will always be much more fun to play.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angle, awkward, Big Bear Lake, birthday, blog, bra, cashier, girly, haircut, He's Just Not That Into You, love, mall, Mika, movie, music, Nanalan', scandalous, Sushi, The Dark Knight, Valentine's Day, World Market
Valentine’s day, the day that says, “Roar. Celebrate love and all things red, pink, and lacy,” has passed.
Sure. So here I am, cheesy cute pictures in hand, ready to “celebrate love”. Albeit a few days late.
…Yeah, not many thoughts on this topic. It’s kind of a vast blank desert in there, the ones with the fine sand so white it blinds your eyes and you die of blindness rather than starvation.
By the way, I caught a glimpse of Nanalan’ on TV. Now I know…6 PM is happy time. Huzzah.
Alrighty, Friday we celebrated Suyoung’s birthday – eating sushi and watching “He’s Just Not That Into You”. Gosh. The girliest movie I’ve seen in a long time. They used the angle a lot, but there were some cute parts. Escapist cute, but I gave in.
Then we bought a bunch of fattening snacks and hung out at Tiffany’s house. Huzzah?
Yesterday though, that was fun. We went up to Big Bear with my church and played in snow that was over a foot deep. That is truly huzzah. And watched “The Dark Knight” for the millionth time.
I got a haircut Saturday though. It’s super short again, huzzah! Afterwards my mom and I went to the mall in Huntington Beach and discovered this awesome store, World Market, which I’ve always sort of known in the back of my mind but never went inside. Then we went to this department store and she was like, “Why don’t you buy a bra as well?” and I was like,
QUEL HORREUR!
But she insisted. So I looked. Gah. All frilly and lacy and scandalous.
Finally, we went to check out. Unfortunately, the cashier was a guy, so I settled for stealthily laughing at his awkwardness, especially when he couldn’t get the bras into the bag.
So. Awkward bra story over. Now what? Nothing but homework.
Also, new Mika music in his latest video blog. Huzzah huzzah huzzah! Sounds good, now when is the CD coming 0ut?!?!?!
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Asians, Aspects, blogs, brains, British, church, country, drama, Ernest, Herbal Essense, How to Be a Girl, hyper, man, Mika, Miya, music, narrator, Purple Girl, questions, reading, school, sing, snarky, song, stealthy, Sushi Gets Around, voice, Whitney Kid, writer
If there’s one thing that’s mysterious, it’s what goes on inside people’s heads. Miya always says that she wants to know what goes on inside my brain, and I would like to know what goes on in Mika’s brain. But aside from all that, I started wondering yesterday about reading.
How do you read? More importantly, what voice reads to you when you read? For me, all good blogs have the same voice, including my own (not to say my blog is good). And it’s not my own either. I don’t really know what I sound like.
I can tell this post is going to be full of questions. Do you know what your voice sounds like? Sometimes I’ll be getting hyper with my friends and then randomly go quiet because my voice is starting to grate on my nerves.
For Miya, Ernest sounds like Joe Tung with a lisp. That was so weird to me because it’s completely different in my head. I can’t really describe it, for me, Ernest’s voice is more of an essence. Not of the Herbal sort.
When I write, my words are recited either by a snarky old British man or the quiet narrator of a drama (sometimes a sarcastic drama) depending on how I’m writing. When I read Aspects, the school newspaper, I want to puke because a self-righteous “Whitney kid” (“Whitney Kid” being a generalization for people who make jokes about our size/racial makeup/Asians and grades) reads it to me.
The other day I tried to write a serious song. One that could actually be on the radio as opposed to “Sushi Gets Around”. It started out okay, then it descended into fail. I couldn’t help but put humor and start describing what happened instead of feelings, thus creating a country song.
Oh well. At least it’s taught me more about the type of writer I am. I’d rather describe the situation and let people interpret feelings themselves than tell the emotions themselves. Subltety, I guess, is the word. More like STEALTHY. Huzzah.
I’ve just epiphanized that I feel happiest at church. Huzzah!
My family left me alone at home so I started to sing. Like, really sing. Like, singing with an effort. What you hear at school is for comedic purposes. Heck…I don’t know. Maybe what I hear at home is fail too. But anyways, I got a tune for my next complete song, “How to Be a Girl”. I tried to make it serious but failed in that aspect. I’m working on the next song, “Purple Girl”, which makes no sense at all except that purple is huzzah. Well, maybe not for Purple Girl.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: 1930s ad, Andrew Brandou, Captain Jack Sparrow, concert, cool stuff, daydreams, digestive system, Erwin Olaf, Freddie Mercury, free food, future house, Golden books, google, hideous floral armchairs, imposter, Johnny Depp, knitted digestive system, Larryboy, lego bust, liver disease, lollipop, marketing gimmick, Mika, Miya, music, Petrina Hicks, queen, quit, Rain, Russian nesting dolls, scandalous, staged photography, STD, stomach ache, strange, Sushi, The Legend of Jack Sparrow, Where the Wild Things Are, whimsical, Your Sympathy
As promised, today is the day of cool stuff on my blog. At least, what I think is cool, which includes hideous floral armchairs. To prove my point, I even took the effort to google “hideous floral armchair” to try and find the perfect picture of the one.
Holy crap. I’m the second result that came up. Whell. Now I’m a bit discouraged and lazy so no hideous floral armchair picture for you.
I do have a bazillion pictures of strange things that currently appeal to me. During my daydreams of my future house (if you haven’t figured out that I’m strange, you’re a bit slow), I picture having some sort of copy of these things hanging on my walls, or, in the hideous floral armchair’s case, sitting in my uh, parlor. Improvisation is a parlor trick. Anyone can do it.
Typing “do it” triggered several scandalous thoughts and now I must mention that while I was watching “Larryboy” a couple minutes ago I heard Archibald say, “Eject Larryboy, eject!!!” And now I must wash my brain. No, actually Larryboy was stuck in his stealthy plane and he had to escape. Using the ejector seat. Wow, it never stops, does it?
On second examination of my files, I’ve discovered that I saved much less stuff than I thought. I guess this won’t be such an awesome post, but I’ll try to make it at least okay.
This is by Andrew Brandou, whose art looks like it’s from those Golden books about puppies and little trains that could. I don’t know, those years are slightly foggy. Except, his stuff is much more scandalous. This one is rather mild, so huzzah? I don’t know if this stuff is news to you, but I liked it so here it is.
All together class, who did this remind you of?
“It’s Sushi and she gets around,
it’s Sushi and she gets around,
it’s Sushi and she gets around
on her new bicycle.”
It’s an ad from the 30’s and it made me laugh much. Huzzah huzzah huzzah.
This is by Erwin Olaf from his Rain series. I love staged photography, it always ends up way more whimsical than candid shots. Reader, you’re squinting at the screen trying to find the whimsical in this dreary photograph. I’ll give you a few more futile minutes.
Although those people looked bummed out because their party is a fail, I love how fake it looks, but I also love seeing the situation that they’re in, it’s like looking at a snapshot of someone’s life.
Digest that. Here’s a knitted digestive system. Knowing me and the way I was raised (thanks Dad), I feel that liver disease is always imminent. My dad freaks out if my liver area hurts, or if my kidneys hurt, and I guess for good reason. When I was little and I got a stomach ache, I’d tell him, above/on/below belly button and how it felt. Then I’d get a diagnosis and either go to the bathroom, eat, or get into the farting position. Yeah…more on that later. (The latter my grandpa taught me.)
This was made by Petrina Hicks, I believe, and it just makes me kind of happy. To tell the truth, six degrees has something to do with it, but if the lollipops were not there (love’s gonna get you down) the little girl would be less cute. My advice then, would be to permanently infuse the lollipops into her eye sockets to remain forever cute.
And now the moment you’ve all (well, Miya at least) been waiting for:
A lego bust of Freddie Mercury. I too, have no comment, but am frantically scrolling up and down trying to see the complete picture at once. I’m not a huge fan of Queen, which is good because otherwise I would be shunning this picture, and the person who posted it (please don’t) for displaying an imposterful bust! I would know, I have done it to Captain Jack Sparrow action figures. It’s also the reason I bought “The Legend of Jack Sparrow” even though it’s a crappy game, proving that when it comes to Johnny Depp’s voice, marketing gimmicks work.
This is the end of our cool pictures. You may leave the bus now or continue on because now I shall discuss with myself my first concert ever.
…
Are they gone yet? Quitters. Only in the three arts of smoking, drinking, and doing drugs is quitting good. Also, driving too fast near the Grand Canyon.
I’ve just fallen in love with Russian nesting dolls.
Are they not awesome? I especially like the little one in the front with the scandalous top.
I can’t wait for “Where the Wild Things Are”. I shunned too much as a kid.
Back to my first concert – it was awesome. That is all. There was free food = awesomeness. No, but the music was great too. Not like what I’ve been listening to lately, more like what I instinctively always liked but recently grew tired of.
Shh. My sister’s humming “Your Sympathy”. This is historical.
Yeah, okay. That’s it for today. I’m running out of upload space.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: acoustic guitar, Americana, apathy, Blow, commercial, conviction, Dreaming Out Loud, Eartha Kitt, hair, happy-go-lucky, James bond, jeans, Johnny Depp, justify, La Poo Poo, Lethal Shot, lyrics, migrant worker song, music, One Republic, Santa Baby, Simple Plan, Someone to Save You, song, stealthy, Sushi, Tyrant, wheat field, When I'm Gone
This song, of the same title, makes me think of happy-go-lucky people rocking side to side in a wheat field to the sound of an acoustic guitar.
Much in the same way as the Migrant Worker Song.
As it played meaninglessly in the background while I did my homework, a line in particular stood out to me. “Steal my bones from a thousand miles apart.” One Republic is very good at strange confusing lines that don’t seem to mean a thing or relate to the rest of the song except in sounding deep. There I go again, almost typing “depp”. Silence, subconscious! I am not returning to my former ways. I can say that with almost as much conviction as Sushi when she denies relations with James Bond now.
Isn’t it strange that Eartha Kitt died exactly a week after we torment Sushi about “Santa Baby” and her private affairs with her boyfriend? Who is, one of the world’s most lethal killers besides La Poo Poo and Lethal Shot?
Some of One Republic’s favorite words are “apathy” and “justify”. Listen to their album “Dreaming Out Loud” and you’ll hear those two words several times in different songs. Oftentimes in other unrelated-sounding lines.
And what about this, from “Tyrant”?
“Watching myself when I’m taking strides but here comes the moon and it feels and it feels like an informer quick run away hide before they see you, you know it is all, all a glow.”
Sounds stealthy to me. No, it is really just “stealthy” worded in a very pretty and deep-sounding way. Because repeating “stealthy” makes one seem extremely dumb.
Plus, a double offender from “Someone to Save You”:
“Apathy in disguise
Crept on you like a spy
Hurt you in ways you can’t describe”
This is both stealthy and contains “apathy” in it. Huzzah.
I don’t know the point of this post either. I think it was to share the image of the people in the wheat field. It’s got an Americana-filled jean commercial starring guys with Johnny Depp hair from “Blow” (the early days sequences). Goodnight and goodluck.
