Sucking at swallowing.
For some reason or other I have 'More Than A Party' stuck in my head. On loop. Makes me think back to the glorious Christmas of '88 when I got the videotape of "The World We Live In - And Live In Hamburg". I had spikey hair and a tan. I was Edward Street before it was uncool to be Edward Street. Around the corner from Edward Street, funnily enough. Seems the environment does influence the individual. Now that I live in Woodstock I am in danger of sporting some bum fluff on my chinny-chin-chin and acting on a sudden urge to hop on my bicycle and off for some overpriced coffee with a silly design in the foam. I once had a Guinness in an English pub. In England. The barman made a little shamrock in the head. It's a slippery slope.
So, here I sit, mired in the soul crushing world of reluctant IT guy. The office needs a new thingumabob so that the upgraded whatsit can do its thing. I'm no good at this and a new hurdle jumps out at every turn. Every time I think I have successfully dealt with the issue, some new and even more dastardly development makes me want to go next door and shoot the screaming child in the larynx. I swear it's a conspiracy. I'm no expert - this much is evident - but surely the simple purchase of a piece of equipment can't be that complex.
At least I have Facialboobs. Or rather, why is Facialboobs so bloody boring? It would seem that we have reached a point where all conversation is nothing more than the same recycled shit. It appears that everyone has grown tired of virtual socialising and is now using the platform for nothing more than stating a hackneyed point. We get it. Where's the entertainment value? Why aren't you lot keeping me from boredom induced suicide?
Do not get me started on the news. I am trying my best to avoid the news. I'd rather be bored than nauseated. Even then, one still has to make sure it isn't some spoof story. But then along comes Tarty Farty Tequila Hurricane and makes it all better. She is currently on some sort of "People Of Cape Town" project (nothing like Dali Tambo's obsequious production of a similar name) and posted a story of this fellow. Inspiring. Methinks it's time to start tagging along on her many adventures again.
Tonight 50% of the band (SoreFinger, Hungover and ForgotMyShitAtHome) get together and attempt to set some sort of record by playing through material that has been ignored for about 3 months. Not the kind of record we had in mind when starting out all fresh faced and full of dreams...
Before that, though, I will be attentively snoozing in front of the telly with a cold beer as Bafana Bafana take on Mali. If irony was tangible, it would indeed be heaped upon itself. I am driving home via Camps Bay to avoid the traffic around the stadium where it's being played!
Also, why don't hipster girls just do us all a favour and grow beards as well?
And why has the entire Universe decided to declare in one united voice that Lego is suddenly the coolest thing ever?
NGDG: My eyes feel like Bart Simpson's favourite TV show.
Spread The Love. Shotgun!