Marc
Did Zach and I really write a somewhat threatening note last night to a band about what song should be on their album? Yup. .. looks that way. And we meant every frickin' word. "Let's Go Blue", dudes. "Let's Go Blue" indeed.
On the MP3 Player: "Rimshot Na Na" by Sean Na Na.
Last night deserves a cheery-hi-oh! all around. I enjoy the Cellar on Thursday nights. It makes me want to get back here more often, but alas, the traveling don't stop. And I can't stop with it. Unless of course I get accepted back into school for the summer session. . . . . . . which I did. Booyaa. Now all I need to do is figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Here goes:
1) High School English Teacher- No way in hell could I stand forty years of teenagers mocking me. I'd be no example to any of them. I'd probably be more like the "cool teacher who cusses a lot and fully supports Catholic high school girls uniforms". It's sad to have to admit to it. And sadly, it's so true.
2) GarbageMan- Might as well. I get dirty enough doing what I do now.
3) Rock Star- hee hee. I wish, oh I wish this was to be.
4) University Professor- This I could do, if I could somehow force myself into years and years of extra schooling.
It's too early to think of anything else. My credit card company woke me up this morning to say thanks.
"How are you doing today?"
"Sleepy..."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to wake you, sir. Do you work nights?" (it still amazes me that anyone calls me "sir")
"No. Went to the bar."
(laughter all around, jovial, jolly day)
Good night. Or morning. Ugh.
Did Zach and I really write a somewhat threatening note last night to a band about what song should be on their album? Yup. .. looks that way. And we meant every frickin' word. "Let's Go Blue", dudes. "Let's Go Blue" indeed.
On the MP3 Player: "Rimshot Na Na" by Sean Na Na.
Last night deserves a cheery-hi-oh! all around. I enjoy the Cellar on Thursday nights. It makes me want to get back here more often, but alas, the traveling don't stop. And I can't stop with it. Unless of course I get accepted back into school for the summer session. . . . . . . which I did. Booyaa. Now all I need to do is figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Here goes:
1) High School English Teacher- No way in hell could I stand forty years of teenagers mocking me. I'd be no example to any of them. I'd probably be more like the "cool teacher who cusses a lot and fully supports Catholic high school girls uniforms". It's sad to have to admit to it. And sadly, it's so true.
2) GarbageMan- Might as well. I get dirty enough doing what I do now.
3) Rock Star- hee hee. I wish, oh I wish this was to be.
4) University Professor- This I could do, if I could somehow force myself into years and years of extra schooling.
It's too early to think of anything else. My credit card company woke me up this morning to say thanks.
"How are you doing today?"
"Sleepy..."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to wake you, sir. Do you work nights?" (it still amazes me that anyone calls me "sir")
"No. Went to the bar."
(laughter all around, jovial, jolly day)
Good night. Or morning. Ugh.
<< Home