So, I am listening to this album right now as loud as my laptop speakers will get without hissing and belching white noise. It makes me think of three things:1) This being the most bad ass album in the entire world when I was 15.
2.) Dan Bailey. Him and I are so about this album. I think Nate Logan is, too. We cruised around Muncie and talked about this album while we bought beer in Friendly Package.
3.) This is still one of the most bad ass albums ever.
Come on. I can barely handle that shit.
**
When I drive my new car, it's like nothing else outside of the car is evening happening. There's no sound. Things don't move. Other cars can't pass me. I feel like I'm driving a missile and every time I park, it detonates. Shrubs wilt and splinter, people turn to dust and the wind carries them into separate piles of widows, widowers and orphans.
I walk inside, do whatever business I had, then continue driving. My car screams like danger and loss.
That's just fine with me.
**
The Bulls lost last night. It's okay. I have the rest of my life to wait patiently for another NBA Title.
**
This is the time of year where everyone is all like, "Ohhh man, it's time to graduate." Wah wah, cryin' like babies.
Already done ittttttttt. Miss it, though. I wanna' walk back into the Robert Bell building with some anthologies in one hand, a water in the other. I want to sit at a desk and talk about texts. Then I want to walk back to a small apartment with low ceilings, call some friends and blow out the candle I left lit all day. Blowing it out and watching smoke squeeze out an open door or cracked window is the best feeling in the world.
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