Not a total Betty but a valiant effort.
Thanks for the abs though, Matt.
That was cool of you.
...
I know.
I'm disgusting and stuff.
As if this is a new discovery.
And i'm broken.
The same music from Nishe's, Becoming a Snowflake* but originally provided for Di Wang's, The Last Key.
*blogged here.
Finn and Jake nailing my very existence yet again.
My sisters bought me the first season of Adventure Time for Christmas.
...
They are my favourite people.
Sorry, rest of world.
You lose.
Number seven.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
 |
| via The 'wondrous' Oatmeal |
Up at 7am.
5.5 hours sleep.
From scarily awake to a slobbering zombie mess in 4 hours flat.
...
A level 10 espresso shot now resides in my gut-palace.
...
And i'm still face-planting everywhere.
...
To the coffee machine!
'Oh Christmas Troy! Oh Christmas Troy!
Thy candles shine so brightly!
Oh Christmas Troy! Oh Christmas Troy!
Much pleasure thou can’st give me.
The sight of thee at Christmas-tide!
Spreads hope and gladness far and wide.
Oh Christmas Troy! Oh Christmas Troy!
Thou tree most fair and lovely!'
Merry Troymas, people-folk.
Six down.
An unachievable amount more to go.
Rumf.
Did i post this already?
Who cares.
Awesome.
Another radio find.
Guy Garvey's Finest Hour is a personal favourite.
He makes me feel so musically inferior but in a wonderful, mind-blowing way.
This is the kind of radio i want to hear.
Not mainstream puppets following an approved playlist and wittering on about their 'awesome lives'.
No thanks.
I want to hear the music that means something to these people.
Music that's altered them.
Music they can't imagine never hearing again.
Because that stuff?
That's the good stuff.
The only 'stuff'.
One of the perks of having to listen to the radio in the shower due to your brain not being fit to be left to its own devices is the discovery of little gems like 6 Music's A Brief History Of.
I caught this one this morning and enjoyed the stuttered disquisition of Wayne Coyne probably more than i should have.
It's only available for 7 more days so have a listen.
If only for this song:
It's long and strangely haunting and totally worth it.
Getting my Scrooged on with crackers and tea.
Life's good this Sunday eve.
Five christmas movies done and dusted:
I will watch the rest.
Even if it kills me.
Huh.
I wasn't all that enamoured of the book.
But kinda loved the movie.
Go figure.
And this boy:
Give this boy more work.
Timing.
Charm.
Wit.
And he looks like a goddamn Beat Writer when wearing glasses.
What more could you ask for?
Oh, yeah, to appear in Supernatural.
Free pass for life.
...
Is my nerd showing?
'A Light exists in spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here
A color stands abroad
On solitary fields
That science cannot overtake
But human nature feels.
It waits upon the lawn,
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as horizons step
Or noons report away
Without the formula of sound
It passes and we stay —
A quality of loss
Affecting our content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a sacrament.'
A light exists in spring
The lovely boys of Three Blind Wolves sent me this today.
Personal touches.
That's what the music world needs more of.
The world in general.
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