DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-TWO
AHHHHHHHHH! (This is me screaming.)
What? Song? What? Oh, there’s supposed to be a song here? What? Oh… this is a daily blog? I get it! Well, then, I’ll post DAILY, shall I!?
Geez. The only thing that’s coming between me and posting is a frontal lobotomy. I was going to come up with some awesome reason why I have a bunch of songs in the posting cue, but none of them up. I can only give you one:
I have purchased (and sold) my very first car(s). Sold: 1998 Subaru Outback Impreza. Purchased: 1987 Volvo 240 DL Wagon. In doing this, I have become OBSESSED with fixing this car. It’s like an Volvo elf crawled into my ear, ate out my brain, got all fat and lethargic, and said, “That’s right. I’ve moved in.” I would sit down to do it and my fingers would type in, “Volvo 240 DL tie rod repair”. WHAT!? I mean, really. WHAT?!
According to Jocelyn, it must be nearing Mercury Retrograde, but I’m not so sure. I think I’m just going crazy. Well, if you can’t depend on a song being here when I say it’s going to be here… on what, my friend, can you depend? (Quite a bit, actually, but we’ll stop this right here.)
Violence, creepiness, blood, body parts, SCREAMING! All of this in the song today, done in 1.5 takes with 2 hours prep time last night. I was digging into my childhood to pull out the screaming: I loved Fruma Sarah from Fiddler on the Roof: so weird, and, at the time I thought, “What’s with all the screaming, lady!?” (I have a sweet bell one and another trio coming up, so don’t give up my brothers and sisters.) After all…
Friday Was The 13th