Since my return from Sasquatch, I've continued to abuse my body (note: the eggshell on my forehead and massive bruises on my legs and knees) and neglect my daily duties outside of work.
For instance, I have yet to do laundry, so I've been wearing a combination of discarded clothes from the hall closet and jeans I just cut off into shorts each morning. I call it recycling. Come winter, I might have a different opinion.
My room is littered with a accumulation of dirty clothes and empty bottles. I'm starting to display similar characteristics to a frat boy.
My mother is getting married next weekend in Vegas. That gives me 1. an excuse to calm down this weekend and save money that I no longer even have & 2. rent an over-sized SUV that I otherwise never even consider getting behind the wheel of so my friends and I can trek down to Sin City and, well, get loaded. I do have one friend who is not attending the wedding with me, and it deeply saddens my heart to know she won't be there to share the joyous occasion of passing my mother off to some other poor soul to pamper her for the rest of her life.
Please remember I am a professional, and on a day-to-day basis, I can keep it in my pants, so to say.
I'm really stoked the Blackhawks are owning the Flyers right now, even though I would have much rather seen the Sharks there. Oh well, you can't have everything.
But now to wrap up and get to the point. Single time
This song comes off of an album release last year. Danish Group The Raveonettes haven't always struck a lasting chord with me, despite the name and reputation they've built for themselves (not to mention the countless grabs of one of the hottest women in rock by the lead singer)
It was the simplicity of this song that immediately caught my interest. Just a simple drum machine and a kick-back to goth-rock guitar, paired with her almost angelic voice, belting our lyrics about teenage suicide.
It's weird, but it works.
Watch/listen for yourself
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