Shaddup and gimme some music.

Well, I hear you.  But I have no music.  I’m dry.  DRY!

As a dead fish in the desert.  As a drunk in solitary.  As a dryness metaphor when I’m all out of metaphors for dryness.

So, why does that happen?  Wish I knew.  Just does, and you gotta go with it.  Actually you can muscle out of it if you really want to, but well, we’re talking about me here.  Not much musclin’ goin’ on ’round these parts.

I got sick a week or so ago, that’s part of it.   Man it was bad too, I was basically laid out for two and a half days, with the usual stomach problem. Getting a bit needlessly paranoid concerned about the possbility of Crohn’s or some other chronic thing, but for now it’s gone again, so that’s good.  Still no music though.

I know what it is.  I need to get back to studying my computery stuff.  It’s probably that guilt thing again. Yep.

So, uh.  Just wait.  The next post will be filled with melody; I’ll probably have a rock opera ready about writer’s block or somethin’.  I promise it won’t be tacky or anything.  So until then.

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July 2009
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Currently Reading:

Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame - Charles Bukowski

Currently Listening:

Mr. Bungle - California

Why, yes, I am cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce.

You lika de juice????

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