I uh, don't know what to write. I thought I did. Words on the tip of my tongue, teetering on the edge preparing to jump to their doom. Or onto the written page. Whichever.
I haven't been sleeping. You'd think that all the extra time might lead to some increased productivity at home. At least on accident. But not so much. Stacks of papers, discarded boxes and grocery bags make of the landscape of what I like to describe as the English countryside for rodents. Although it's probably more like Mexico City. The sights are quite nice but you might get a shoe thrown at you. They're just lucky I have terrible aim. Or maybe not, I'd probably feel bad and nurse them back to health.
Poor little things. God knows I hate living here, must be way worse between the floorboards. Down there with that beating heart. I mean the vital organs of the body I disposed of. Just kidding, god knows you can't fit that in a New York apartment. Stick to car trunks, kids.
Ok, today's songs.
The Smiths - Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
Stars - Personal
Neutral Milk Hotel - Oh Comely
The Cure - Boys Don't Cry
Ben Folds - You Don't Know Me
The Sounds - Rock'n Roll
Crystal Castles - Not In Love
Plastic Little - The Jumpoff
There's almost a theme today. Minus the last song. That's just a song that needs to be listened to. Mainly for the end. And your worst enemy's momma, gets killed by ninjas, at disneyworld. That's the jumpoff.
