Why don't you just NOT comment on my stuff.
Lazy misfits.

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(inhale

Miss Angry.

(exhale (

Next on your list...

TYPHOON.

An orchestra from Portland. Well, they're basically an orchestra with the following members/instruments:

2 guitar players, 1 bass player, 2 drummers/percussionists, 1 multi-instrumentalist SLASH guy-that-plays-all-of-the-instruments-that-no-one-else-wants-to-play, 1 cellist, 2 violin players, 3 trumpet players.
One of the guitar players sings lead and everyone else sings backup. They often sound like they have choral arrangements backing them but nope... it's just all 11 other people singing backup.

I saw them live last night opening for The Decemberists at Pioneer Park in Salt Lake City. I only heard half of their set but I was captivated.

These are my favourites:
This one.



And especially this one:



Over and out, captain.

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I often look at shoes that are far out of my price range.
"A man can dream though, a man can dream."
Examples:
Here.

Here.

Here.

I saw 'em in a bike magazine. People on bikes wearing designer suits isn't exactly what I'd call a good idea but hey, I guess it makes a great photo.

Also, my dad ordered a Brooks leather saddle (bike seat, not for horses) and it came with one of the most glorious ads I've ever seen:

Hide that fox you beautiful, bike-riding couple!

Nicholas Rodney Drake

More commonly known as Nick Drake.



19 June 1948: Born in Rangoon Burma.
25 November 1974: Committed suicide by overdosing on amitriptyline, an antidepressant.

The least you could do is click on that link.

Lua

Now I know the posts at/about the ranch may have been overdone a little bit. So that's why I laid low for a while and now that that whole escapade has blown over, I want to write about a magnificent experience I had one night at the ranch.

The last week I was working was long, arduous and just plain boring. I wanted to be home so badly. As this experience happened earlier in the week (probably on a Monday or Tuesday) it made me appreciate the fact that I was out, away from the majority of the human existence, on a little getaway in the country alone with my own thoughts and my best friend, Chris.

I was up late, which doesn't happen often. I had to make breakfast in the morning, so I mixed and patted the dough for the british scones and chucked it in the freezer, frustrated with myself that I was up til 11:30. I stepped outside with nothing but the filthy clothes hanging from my exhausted, bony frame and an iPod with some shitty speakers complete with batteries, fit to die. Staring up at the sky that late at night in Vernon is something glorious. You're at least 40 miles from anywhere with an abundance of electricity and loud, wired people and the sky reflects that. There's no light pollution, nothing to mar the beauty of a simple night sky. You look up and you see a network of light working above you, you see the entire milky way, you see everything your deity wants you to see.

I collapsed on the grass just 20 feet from the house, next to a water pump. Now there are many reasons for me to turn on music that is the epitome of sorrow, and the reasons for that night are the ones that plague me often: I was sick of the tedium of our 8 hour work days, I was sick of the other boys and their infatuations with video games, I was tired all the time, I was hungry all the time and I missed Mary more terribly than ever before. So I turned to the wondrous chunk of metal resting sweetly in the grass next to my head and turned on a song from a "famous singer" I loved: Bright Eyes' "Lua."

Is it foolish to play music that will only make you slip deeper into a state of loneliness?
Not at all.
That's what I do. That's what everyone should do.

"When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend."

I watched the stars and listened. And I not only listened to the words of a sage but I listened to the world around me. I listened to a border collie approach me cautiously, unsure if I was friend or foe.
"Lua...? Hey."
Lua licked my hand and curled up to next to me.

I sprawled on the grass as the world chirped around me. I listened to not only what the earth had to say to me but also to what another man, a man taken with grief, had to offer to me. "Lua" offered me solace and I took it. The border collie of the same name offered me comfort and I took it. And the stars. They offered me all the beauty in the world and I left it. It's not for me to take.
"When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend."

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She will go down with her ship like a good captain.

Mustache Prowess.

Now I know Soren has a sweet mustache picture but the question is... does anyone else?

Come on. Try to beat this. Actually never mind. When you lose miserably, I don't want you to be hard on yourself. I don't blame you for losing, I mean, look that that:



Impressive, I know.
And Matthew, you're not allowed to enter. (He looks like a kodak bear if he doesn't shave for 3 hours which of course, is unfair.) Whatever, give me a few years.

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There is comfort in solace and loneliness. I know.
Read/listen.

Green Grass, Tom Waits

Lay you head where
My heart used to be
Hold the earth above me
Lay down in the green grass
Remember when you loved me

Come closer don't be shy
Stand beneath a rainy sky
The moon is over the rise
Think of me as a train goes by
Clear the thistles and brambles
Whistle didn't he ramble
Now there's a bubble of me
And its floating in thee
Stand in the shade of me
Things are now made of me
The weather vane will say
It smells like rain today
God took the stars and he
Tossed 'em can't tell
The birds from the blossoms
You'll never be free of me
He'll make a tree from me
Don't say good bye to me
Describe the sky to me
And if the sky falls, mark my words
We'll catch mocking birds

Lay your head where
My heart used to be
Hold the earth above me
Lay down in the green grass
Remember when you loved me

Serve God, love me and mend.
This is not the end.
Live unbruised, we are friends.
And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.