January 2009
4 posts
There is nothing in this godforsaken place that...
Thank fuck for Lynard Skynard and The Marshall Tucker Band.
And suck it, indie pussies.
Rinse.
When a band sounds like Eddie Money, does that make them super-fantastic?
I believe it does.
I also don’t believe that Jesus had magical powers or that Obama doesn’t.
Everything is going to be cracker jack.
Seville is a city in Spain and not a Cadillac.
Everything is on fire.
We are all savages.
Put your claws away.
Clean up and shine.
Everything is cracker jack.
I cry like a typewriter.
I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.
Writers write.
Writers write. So I pass my time daydreaming about women with no noticeable deformities, listening to the latest Buffalo Springfield rip-off indie act, wishing I had better shoes and cooler jeans. Also, I drink. Writers write. So I am a writer.