He Was As Long As His Song Names
While I try to find the time to write about the Bangkok tranny who laughed out loud at the immensity of my hips, and the go-go boys who played soccer with their dicks, you may wish to partake of some rather more refined knob jokes. I present to you hipster erotica:
“Sufjan Stevens and I sat on the edge of my bed and talked for hours about everything. It sounds dumb to say it, but he actually gets me. He said that I was one of the most genuine people he’d ever met, and that I was actually cool, not like one of those people who obviously wants to be cool, but who just is, like a coolness that comes from deep within and is as much a refutation of cool as an embrace of it.”
Replace ‘Sufjan Stevens’ with ‘DJ Shadow’ and you’ve pretty much got what goes on in my head every night before I go to bed. Right after I finish meditating to the sounds of ‘Endtroducing’ with aromatherapy soy candles lit around the room and scented oils anointed on my happy places.
To be honest though, his new album ‘The Outsider’ has somewhat driven a wedge between us. We’re trying to work things out individually but continue to have an enormous amount of respect and admiration for each other. In the mean time, we’d very much appreciate your respect for our privacy during this difficult time.
You know it really bugs me that so many people from so many different places have stolen the word ‘cool’. Moan, whine… It’s a jazz thing, it was a movement in the late forties to get away from the intense bop that emerged earlier in the decade. Complain, bicker…
She’s not cool at all. She doesn’t even play the saxophone. Give us our word back!
I’m more of a Sonic The Hedgehog carpet fanfiction person myself.
Also, The Outsider is unbelievably bad. What the hell is he thinking putting that out?
I want to add a comment but I can’t. The ‘geek’ bar has been raised too high. In this comments section I feel like a pole vaulter holding a broom handle.
Blah, my link no workie.
There