Tag Archives: mindpod

Tom and Zack

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Sometimes its just like that… You are sitting at your favorite place for potato juice then you realize you don’t even fucking drink that anymore. So you order some bourbon and start to relax when you just can’t. There is tension… so you do some social media bullshit. Then it hits you what a mistake that is because the world seems to be going to hell in a handbasket- oh wait just us.

After the bourbon settles and I stop looking at news, I am actually thankful. I force people to listen to whatever I want on the jukebox by using my phone to override the next pick. It’s the little things. It dawned on me as I usurped some slash-my-wrist 80’s emo bullshit with some Rage that holee shit! 25 years ago when you were doin whatever the fuck you were doin like oh ya trying to finish high school while navigating teenage motherhood-ish…oh wait, I didn’t have my own kids but I had some my parents made so that was just me. Anyway a pivotal moment in music happened. I can always count on this album to tap my feelings with all the intensity I feel. I don’t need to know the same exact things, that happened – I just need the Rage.

Killin’ in the name of

quarter century of lives lived through pain unheard of

Where was I when things goin down

Kickin’ it safe in my skinny albino alpaca town

Beat a girl to the ground or did you just fuck around

No idea what those boys been through

How those girls feel shamed

All the times we cause the pain

I’m a silly white girl with privilege

Such as it is today

I work for less pay than the pyramid’s top

but what the hell have I to say

Complaints

I make myself sick

I want for nothing

Full belly

Shelter

What more could I wish?

Who am I to complain?

WHO AM I TO COMPLAIN?

Who am I to feel pain?

Who am I to be pissed, when much is denied to so many

and I am the one who took it away

My starting matters not

Nothing

No

Thing

The skin I wore with luck galore

It kept me safe and whole nobody’s whore

but it couldn’t protect the rest

Ask my bro… he’ll protest.

His shape, His life

Mold my love and passion

His skin was no protection

Nor his gender from action and detection

Sad fact is we ARE human

Our race plays only plays a part

but our being our soul… it comes from the heart

Our drive

Kill-love-hate-protect

We have a choice each one

We are the metamorphosis of our choices

We choose what we become…

Do we become the forces?

The same that burn crosses

Let them cause holes in our spirits

Causing tears and fears

Are we inferior

am I in fear of years

Does skin matter so much

Or does our heart determine us

Do we let the established tell us

Or do we

Me

You

Tell them who we are

Do we stand up and testify

Do we take the power back

Take the Power Back

I’m Pretty Sure That it’s Fucksox Friday

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Did you know there is an actual thing called a whirly-gig? yeah… its that wooden thing they stake into your lawn that has hands or feet or something that “whirl” around…. I myself thought I was a whirly-gig but it turns out I was in fact wrong.

So for this Fucksox Friday I take my cue from her Snarkness, and instead of waxing on and on about whatever.

sooo I’m pretty sure that,

…Ben Franklin was right and beer is proof that god wants us to be happy.

…no one should ever be able to wear Hypercolor again. PERIOD.

…if what doesn’t kill is supposed to make us stronger – my neighbor deserves a bigger set of biceps and a rockhard fucking ass.

…you shouldn’t walk around lookin like a whore on holloween, with your child in tow… save that shit for the adult party.

…my boss has no idea whatsoever. none. I am so overqualified that in about a week I could make her obsolete.

…love is love no matter who is giving and who is receiving. It’s sad that a piece of paper has become so fucking important.

…living in a small ass college town for the last 18 years has caused me to look at women differently and pretty much think that all of them are whoores between the age of 18 and 22.

…living in a small ass college town for the last 18 years has caused me to look at men differently and pretty much think that all of them are whoores between the age of 28 and 42.

…I hate the color yellow.

…if I hadn’t been so frightened as a child by so many bad things I would be a complete stoner.

…Bret Michaels should not be allowed anywhere near a microphone. Ever.

…I married satan’s spawn when I was 20. He left scars that still open at the most inopportune times 12 years after we got divorced.

…if I didn’t have those scars, I’d probably be an ugly person.

…fuckin Chuck Norris is a gangster and could take out Steven Segal any day.

…that I have been very recently influenced, loved and cared for by some amazing women (and men) I have never met and it has reminded me that we as humans are really basically good and become bad through our own choices.

…my cell phone has retarded me, as have calculators and computers… really. Do you know all your family member’s phone number’s by heart or have them written on paper??? that’s what I thought.

…I would love a shot of Jameson right now but also sure it would be a bad idea.

…that I have not had a mindPod shuffle the entire time I’ve been writing this list.

…Clowns are fucking SCARY!!!!!!!!!!

…there are some things you can never unsee: your parents fucking, your grandparents fucking, scatporn, the cross fucking scene from the Exorcist, some of the crap on awkward family photos and Human Centepede.

…the Abe Lincoln is the best type of beard. (I’ll shank you over this)

…Sushi, should be Japanese, Thai food should be um Thai and Chinese food should not contain msg.

…I love TOOL and think Maynard is a genius but do not want to have his babies, lick his shoes or any of the other ridiculous things I have seen people offer just to meet him. He’s a human, talented, but human. whatever.

…my mindPod smells like teen spirit.

…I love all kinds of music but cringe when Lynerd Sknyrd comes on.

…you should not get married because you are knocked up. Even if her/your dad threatens you. It rarely works.

…there is love at first sight, sometimes the least likely couples actually have it figured out.

…you man can never be too good looking, your drink can never be too strong and you can NEVER have too many shoes.

…

singing man

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This week, well the last two, have been about as much as I can take on this ride. But its fortunate I have a vast collection of music to shuffle through my mindPod (and actual shite too if you must know… between the collections is about two solid months of non stop tuneage) and I happened to land on Austin Lucas. Ahhh Austin Lucas. Not a well known musician, though he should be. And today, he is my hero. His style may not be for all but he was exactly what I needed. Most specifically his song Singing Man.

The past few weeks have been that of feeling weak and inadequate. Regardless  of what anyone said or did I wasn’t going to get it. That is the nature of the little car that whirrs me round. But when its quiet and I can’t hear anything I tap my dbase of songs and here it is… Austin Lucas. So today was my dad’s birthday (dude! 69 – he’s gonna throw that around all year because he’s dirty… GROSS!). I hate family events for more reasons than I can tell you today but the short version is because my sister somehow  – with her super powers (do you get those during child birth? if so I may have to rethink shit) – flip-floped me in the line of birth order and is now the oldest instead of youngest and has a complete vulcan mind-meld hold over my mother. I think its because she is married and has a child and I myself have neither, in fact I do not want child and I am divorced, thus I am broken. so there’s that… So I couldn’t go. I just couldn’t. I know I disappointed my bro, and I hate that. But to be fair I was unwell on Sunday but, it was made all the worse by my anxiety. I felt well…. weak and small and like I mattered little. My solution was to say hey, I’ll come over on his actual birthday! So the last three days I kept hearing the words…

‘I had followed her on
Until breathlessly she said
Here’s my hand, won’t you take it, won’t you?
Oh
You are not weak
And not small
In my eyes you are mighty’

I realized its only in my own eyes that I am weak and small. I may not be the singin man but I cause my own shit storm sometimes. I need to realize she is the youngest, I am the oldest, I am not weak and not small but rather a person who is mighty…

 

this is just him which to me is more pure, because if you are struggling within – you don’t hear harmony. I sing and I don’t hear harmony. Though the link above has the harmony’s with the female voice (who I’m ashamed to say I don’t know).

[youtube]http://youtu.be/F41Ddw1Czuw[/youtube]

 

Thanks Austin, needed you this week and thanks for the tweet…

 

WoW: Exercise 22 – Select a piece of music that reflects the mood of writing you’d like to aim for. Press play. Start free writing. Write the first words that come into your head. When the music’s over, so is the writing. I’d recommend finding out how long the song is before you start the exercise. You may feel cheated in your writing time if you pick a song by The Ramones. Of course, if you feel like writing a short, punky piece by all means, go for it!

musical tourettes

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I’m not sure about you, but anytime I sit down to write, or read, or cook, or clean, or pick my eeer um movie… anything for that matter, in my head there is a song… I call it (for those of you new to my world) my mindpod. And when the little jack thingy isn’t pushed in all the way, and random lyrics suddenly escape through my piehole as the chick drops off my pay stub -think Johnny Kemp ‘just got pay-ed, Friday ni-eet. Party’s jumpin.. Feelin riiite..’ yeah, totally went there. no. I really went there a couple weeks ago. And the best part is only one person in my office was old enought to have heard that song so I had to send a link to the youtube video to several of them (the ones I like enough anyway) So it then becomes musical tourettes without the odd twitching. Its a family thing the musical tourettes, my brother’s version has lots of obscure punk and my moms has a lot of Eagles, Mama’s & Papa’s, and Little River Band and my sister’s has a lot of well shit, yeah, not gonna lie, it has shit. Then I take a amalgamation of all of them, including the shit, and just spew lyrics at random all over you when you least expect it.

So the last few weeks, the mindpod has been on overtime. But in an I’m-gonna-shufle-you-into-the-recesses-of-shit-you-forgot way. Hence the Johnny Kemp. Today and as I made my way to the barstool, er writing desk, I found myself in a Tom Petty time warp. Nope, not Mary Jane, though maybe that would calm the shit in my head yo, and not American Girl, though I could use some lotion right now. Nooo, I had Refugee… nothing to do with anything at all!! I haven’t even heard that song in for-fucking-ever. Well, the mindpod doesn’t lie so maybe my bipolar sensibilities are trying to tell me something? Or maybe it’s ADD. Because just as I decided I needed to figure out why I was trying to live like a refugee, I no longer felt the need. What the fuck yo??? I need refuge! Shelter! Something, I certainly need calm, Xanax maybe? Is my prescription current? I was at the drugstore. hhmmm. then as soon as it came to my mind, the car was on (it actually started which was a feat in and of itself) and the pod did a mad shuffle and threw me into a totally different place entirely …

“Take a drive baby up the coast, yea highway 101
I’ll pass Ventura and Santa Barbara too, just as fast as my motor runs
Gotta pocket full of memories, some happy and some are sad
Gotta girl standin’ by my side through the good times and the bad
Follow the palm trees under the California sun
I believe in love now, I believe in love again”

Now that’s better. I need a break! Work, life, work. I need to get away and take a drive! Take refuge!!! Holy shit, I’m not crazy and my mindpod did not blow a fuse. Excellent!

See you had this fear I injured my funny bone in a freak pizza tossing accident or my sarcasm font had been disabled, Fear Not! I merely took a break from my usual ranting and shit to contemplate the direction my roller coaster has been veering. Its not always easy adjusting to the sudden gee force changes that come with the bi-polar express ticket. I’m going for a ride this weekend.

yay.

WoW: Write the Music

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So I stumbled across Write on Wednesdays. I’m gonna make an attempt to sharpen my skills and get some writing done. We’ll see how it goes…
 

Write On Wednesdays Exercise 5: Write the Music – A bit of choice this week: Pick your favorite song and write down the first line of lyrics OR turn on the radio and write down the first line of lyrics you hear. Then set your timer for 5 minutes and write the first words that come into your head after your writing prompt.  Stop when the buzzer rings! Do this exercise over and over if you wish. 

“Mark out anything that takes no time….”

I was reading one of those psycho-babble, analyze yourself and then you can fix your own bullshit books. I sort of think of those like chose your own adventure, but I’m not sure that they ever really help myself. Today, however, I think that one of the things I read may have merit. (please do not fall off your chair, I will deny all liability) The passage had to do with whether we seek instant gratification, delay gratification or have a healthy self-discipline when it comes to what satiates our own needs. All this is illustrated by how we eat cake – frosting first, frosting last or with the cake simultaneously. When I first read it I decided I was a self denier but enabler of others (I don’t usually eat the frosting at all, but give it to the person who likes it. This usually corresponds with a person of girth, thus the “enabling”.) This may be partially true, but really, I think I have been living with my speed lever switched to 45rpm, even though I should be running on 33rpm. Its like this intense desire pushes me to make sure everything is done as quickly as possible so that everyone is taken care of. (Did you hear the ah-ha and see the light-bulb?) I do not delay or deny, I bypass completely!! There are things that take time that I’ve not completed for myself. I’m too busy. Until I sat and really thought about it, I didn’t give weight to the idea that the reason may very well have nothing to do with my own gratification at all… but more that I don’t like cake! Okay maybe I need to finish the book and get a better picture or listen to the rest of the song…
 


Denali: Relief

Write On Wednesdays

a new year

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my fingers are slurring their words. There have been drinks and sleepless nights and friends in need and drives from one end of the state to the other. Nothing matters except the present moment. Live each present moment wisely and earnestly… That has been my motto for the last 6 or more years.

with music in the back ground is often how I get ideas to start what becomes a thoughtful or rantish post…. whatever the case may be. We all have our favorites, don’t lie, I hear the Eric Carmen blaring from the back bedroom. (turn the radio up for that sweet sound…) And you with the hairbrush, you are not ze greatest singer in ze vorld and neither is celine…

The last week U2 has been non stop on the mindpod. (You know where I’m going with this don’t you?) I am not a fan of the whole Pop-Mart era and I have friends who stopped listening after Rattle and Hum, but there was a bit of redemption with Elevation so I continue to listen. But the classics remain my favorites. Thus a song that was written almost 30 years ago for a new wife while on a vacay in the Caribbean that became an anthem for not only the reunification of Ireland (a constant theme) but for the Polish Solidarity movement as well, is coursing through my mind… my veins.

All is quiet on New Year’s Day.
A world in white gets underway.
I want to be with you, be with you night and day.
Nothing changes on New Year’s Day.
On New Year’s Day.

I prefer it to be a love song and thing that the New Year will start with just that… love. The only thing that will make the any other meaning real, is just that… love.

yule blog (with a side of fd35)

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Another year has passed, and we are one week from the magic baby day when the flying fur-beasts buzz about on the super-sonic, high powered, wonder-sled carrying the fat man that never seems to develop any kind of coronary disease… even though he spends his entire life gorging on the “four food groups” of candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup. Not to mention the 24 hour cookie eating binge that would cause even the Guinness World record holding cookie eating champ to turn and run. (Can you imagine some of the hockey-puck nastyness he must be forced to choke down?? So gross) Okay maybe the fat man and the magic baby aren’t bffffs, but if they were… maybe that would explain how the fantastic 24 hour world cookie tour of sooty cylindrical conveyances actually occurs.  Maybe the star shining in the night gives the super-sonic sled some umf and maybe the fat guy isn’t fat at the beginning of the night – pre cookie binge… he just gets that way as he wolfs them down house after house.

Okay, so I don’t so much believe in magic babies or flying fat men. Whatever… that’s another day. I do believe that winter is wonderful in that the cold reminds us to care for each other… Reminds us to be good humans even if you can only muster it for a day. Whatever it is, believe in what you want, believe in something…. I believe I have been loved and cared for beyond what I thought was possible.  I believe I am a lucky girl who has many things to be thankful for and much goodness to repay.
I have some friends to write good things about, some beer to drink (I believe beer is proof of life being great), some SRV to listen to, and some yule tide to make gay.
Happy solstice.

here we are now, in containers

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So I was listening to the radio while I puttered around the office this afternoon. And AC/DC came on with their classic Dirty Deeds. Not necessarily my favorite song but one that you hear all manner of random lyrics for… my personal favorite being dirty cheese and the thunder chief. This, of course, made me think of all those other songs people screw up all the time (songs I don’t even like that magically become funny because someone is singing the wrong words at the top of their lungs) like, Addicted to Love & Losing My Religion & Bennie and the Jets and on and on. Being the girl I am I had to see what was on line because I started thinking about all manner of crap like the afore mentioned Bennie and the Jets and how many times have I heard electric boobs?!? Boots people, BOOTS. I digress. I ended up finding a website: Kiss This Guy and spent the next too much time laughing my ass off. Holy crap! I love it! Yeah, I’m so gonna start using some of this stuff. I can’t decide my personal favorite so far…

Might as well face it you’re a dick with a glove (Addicted to Love – I laughed pretty good at this one)
Let’s pee in the corner, let’s pee in the spotlight (Losing my Religion – I know some people that would do this with or without religion)
I want a duck shaped like a triangle, you get me closer to bob (Closer – really? Someone heard this?)

I could go on and on… And I have to admit I used to crack up when my friend’s daughter would walk around singing dropping my guitar, droppin my guitar. It was cute. She was also the one that would sing “it’s getting hot in here, so cut off all your toes” hhhhmmmm. That’s disturbing. But I probably have to go with the misquote of the Manfred Mann Band song (Blinded by the Light) as my favorite. And I actually knew this before I found this website because I couldn’t bring myself to believe anyone would want to talk about being wrapped up like a douche. And what the hell does that mean anyway?? How do you wrap up a shower? Or what dude wants to handle the feminine cleansing item and “wrap it up”? None that I know. It’s revved up like a deuce. Just sharing. And that’s caring as we all know.