in keeping with the theme of "more yellow birds" and also because i am addicted to t-shirts, i wanted to inform my three readers that one of my shirt.woot shirts came last night, and i'm donning it proudly today.
in this case, the poor night owl (myself, or the wearer) would like a few less yellow birds.
also, for those of you wondering where the "more yellow birds" current title of this blog comes from, please see this sparklehorse song.
i am thinking, perhaps, i need to explore further the theme of "yellow bird" t-shirts, and make it my new collection hobby. and possibly also new t-shirt rule, to curb my rampant t-shirt purchasing habit. so, let's just say, that for the next year (excepting any new firefly-related shirts that come out) i am only allowed to buy t-shirts with at least one yellow bird on them. i think i can stick to that.
coincidentally, did you know if you type "yellow bird" into the search bar at threadless, you get ZERO search results? this needs to be remedied, folks.
haha, i have no idea what to write here, i just know that apparently i need to. but then, i suppose i don't ever really know what i'm going to wind up writing on here, i just unload. and hey, i have time to kill before my lunch break, although i should probably be doing that by actually working. shhh, don't tell.
so i've been watching castle, and you know what? i like that castle and beckett haven't done the whole get-together thing. i like the few kisses they've had and all the teasing, and significant glances. it makes me keep watching. y'know, i quit watching chuck after season three. chuck & sarah together? well, that got boring - and even casey - EVEN ADAM BALDWIN HIMSELF - couldn't keep me interested enough to stay caught up. so, i'm just gonna say i hope castle and beckett don't ever get together until the series finale, because as much as i love nathan fillion, if even ADAM BALDWIN HIMSELF can't keep me interested in a show, then dear nathan doesn't have much of a chance either. maybe i'd still be watching chuck if adam baldwin were the main character. but then it wouldn't have been "chuck," it would have been "adam baldwin kicks ass and that's all that matters, stare at him for this time-slot while he does cool shit," and i would, by golly. i so would. that show would NEVER get old.
anyway, that's my update on where my thoughts are at currently. maybe i'll post more later, maybe not.
123 goodbye / i love you more in death / than i ever could in life
123 all sigh / when the dollar is young / and the year is new
me and the full wolf moon / will be over you / unto the nighttime
i dream for you 12 sparrows pretty in a row
1 and 23 eyes open to the risen scarecrow of scarecrows
with his mind all blown / down those hay-lined roads / to his farmer's throne
it was happy 123 / it was sad 123 / we were happy once you and me / when we were sad 123 goodbye by elvis perkins
this is the story of victoria lee
she started off on percodan and ended up with me
she lived in berkeley till the earthquake shook her loose
she lives in texas now where nothin' ever moves
victoria you talk so low that no one else can hear
unless you point your megaphone directly at their ear
this is the story of victoria lee
she started on rohypinol and ended up with me
you'd like to think they're you friends, but they're not your friends
and in the end a friend's the one you'll never know, oh don't you know?
you'd like to think you're groovy, it's your movie, you see through me, but it's true
and in the end you'll know, victoria don't go. victoria, victoria don't go. victoria by the old 97's
i watch you stumble through the morning
i watch you stumble home at night
silhouetted by a sun without sunlight
i've watched you walk straight through an evening when you're laden with the day
and the light of the moon, it only gets in your way
from a bedroom window i was anyone
and the street i look upon is my runaway
but i'm connected to the places i don't feel connected from
i'm connected to the place that i don't feel like i'm from
this is the kind of town where everyone knows each other
and everyone hates that they know each other
and no one's getting any younger
from my bedroom window i was anyone
every street i look upon could be a runaway
so move on here now
you don't belong here now
you don't belong you'll never belong
you don't belong here now disconnected by idlewild
walking down the yellow brick road you left a clue
crumpled up the photograph you had with you
giving up the suitcase life and leaving your wife
there's a tunnel at the end of the light
don't know what to say to you standing on the window sill
don't know what to say to you now you swallowed your last pill
don't know what to say to you firing flares into the night
and everything is alright
crashing the afterglow in dingy whites
bleeding from the seven year itch, you lie in it
bathing in the milk of the past and drowning fast
just pretend you're colorblind and you'll be fine
cursing like a four-letter word
phony like a three-dollar bill
sell the ticket to your heart
baby, you're a one-way street crashing the afterglow by versus
there are beads that wrap around your knees
that crackle into the dark
like a walk in the park, like a hole in your head
like the feeling you get when you realize you're dead
this time we ride rollercoasters into the ocean
we feel no emotion as we spiral down to the world
and i guess it's worth your time
because there's some lives you live and some lives you leave behind
it gets hard to explain
the gardenhead knows my name
leave me alone, for you know this isn't the first time
in fact this is twice in a row
that the angels have slipped through our landslide
and filled up our garden with snow
and i don't wish to taste of your insides
or to call out your name through my phone
for the glory boys at your bedside will love you
as long as you're something to own
follow me through a city of frost-covered angels
i swear i have nothing to prove
i just wanna dance through your tangles
to give me a reason to move
but to take on the world at all angles
requires a strength i can't use
so i'll meet you up high in your anger
of all that is hoping and waiting for you gardenhead/leave me alone by neutral milk hotel
and i see the blue-eyed surfer boys gone home to the west coast and the clerk street morning haunted by the figures of your friends but if you get too tired you can lay your hair across my pillow the darkness coming quickly at this time of year
i am in love with this song today. and they don't have it on youtube, and i can't find an mp3 of it anywhere on the internet, so i had to use supload so i could share it.
it fits my mood perfectly. couldn't sleep again last night, didn't fall asleep until 4-something. woke up at 6:30. had a strange dream, odd people in it, odd premise. tangled cords and blankets, trying to avoid or evade or both, a crashed car, blood everywhere, my hands all red. crying out in the dark, but no one was there. sitting on asphalt, wrapping myself up in a blanket to try and stop all the bleeding, but it wasn't working. needed other hands.
hate dreams like that.
supposed to be saving money. bought three t-shirts yesterday, because i felt like it. i need new real clothes, but i keep buying t-shirts. t-shirts and jeans.
avoiding the circleback, is what. it's so hard, with all those other hands reaching, and i'd love to grab, but you'd just drag me down, see. don't want to go back to that. not gonna go back to that.
alaska and sled dogs. a houseboat. move away. make something, somewhere. somewhere not here. should drive up to EA's offices in bountiful and tell them they should hire me. that i'd be a good investment. spend the drive back trying to convince myself the same thing.
hope collin's nerdzine project takes off. got a few good articles ready to go. trying to think of a good name for my music review column. kicking around a couple ideas but none i like enough to share. which means they're not good enough. waiting for deadline panic mode to put it in high gear. ever the procrastinator. the deadline lifeline. oh, irony.
you smell good. didn't want you to smell good. knew you would anyway, it's just... ain't nothin' but a thang, see.
don't want a thing. i want a something.
but things and nothings are so easy to stand on, you see. or at least, good enough to make you feel like you're standing.
