It seems that the only thing I can do lately is listen to Prince, Otis Redding, Stevie Wonder, or The Replacements’ “Tim” on repeat. That’s all I am capable of. I can’t read, I certainly can’t write, I can’t concentrate, and about the only thing I can do while listening to the music is howl in dissatisfaction at the injustice of the world and stare at the phone that refuses to ring.
Yesterday I listened to “Tim” all the way through five (ack!) times in a row in an attempt to cheer myself up. It didn’t exactly work. However, as I told Peabo it did prevent me from gnawing on the bones of my enemies. We did not discuss the fact that I have no enemies, really and that I was just being a big baby.
In case you didn’t notice, it’s the summer of our motherfucking discontent. The number of things that could be my problems are so vast and numerous that I could not even being to enumerate them all.
I’ve fallen into that zone where nothing could make me happy. Nothing at all. I can’t even think of anything that would make me happy. I don’t want to do anything fun, I don’t want to sit at home and veg, I don’t want to buy anything or sell anything or process anything or buy anything sold and processed or sell anything bought and processed or process anything bought and sold.
It seems the only thing that I really want to do is sit and bitch endlessly about my state of discontent and listen to the best Prince song ever (oh yes, I am staking this claim) “I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man” over and over and over and over again.
Best Otis song ever: Mr. Pitiful “They call me Mr. Pitiful, ’cause baby that’s my name” ; )
That’s a good’un, but I can only listen to Prince today. I bare my teeth at anyone who requires me to take off my cans to communicate.
Why can’t you be in a good mood? How hard is it to decide to be in a good mood and be in a good mood once in a while?
That’ll never be me, that’ll never be me. That’ll never be, never be me. NO… NO, NEVER, NEVER, EVER. And don’t you EVER THINK IT.
You’ve got it all figured out, Jodi. If you start out depressed, everything’s kind of a pleasent surprise.
You’re an inspiration, Lloyd. You should go on the 700 Club or something.
You used to be fun. You used to be warped and twisted and hilarious. And I mean that in the best way. I mean that as a compliment.
Oh, Jodi honey, it will come around.
I spent most of November, December, January, and part of Feb. with a dark cloud over me.
But today is one of those weeks that I just can’t run out of luck — I won great Twins tickets, I bought a car that I love last week and booked enough work this week to pay for almost the whole dang car. I’m not in a fight with anyone and the new Supertarget opened early.
Drink some more and let it roll in. It’ll roll out again too. But — watch the booze, sister. Just enough to get you through.
Let the bad times roll.
AC
I was hilarious once, wasn’t I?
You’re a real live wire.
I am looking for a dare to be great situation.
What I really want to do; what I want to do for a living is…I want to be with your daughter. I’m good at it.
Get your butt over here pronto! We can sit in the AC and sip G&Ts and watch “Hot Fuzz” or “Norbert”
a good spiraling depression can sometimes be embraced .let it out.i like to write songs when im going all sad cuckoo.painting works for me too.channel your dark side
Just so you know, the Eels cover of said Prince song is teh awesome also.