I’m gonna be blunt for a moment: If you’re one of those people who is all "Oh man, 2011 is totally gonna be my year," then I don’t get you. Personally, I think it’s the wrong approach. I think you should try to make every year “your year.” You should make everyday your fucking day. Whatever, it’s your choice. We all half-ass it sometimes.
Also, I might just make a screening of In Search Of A Midnight Kiss an annual New Year’s Eve tradition…however, I am slightly tempted to take some inspiration from the movie and throw up a CraigsList posting. Meh.
Hate to break it to you, but if you thought this year sucked, next year is probably gonna suck as well. Shitty things happen, but you can change the way you look at it. You can make most bad things seem okay if you try—except for farts, farts just smell bad at any time. Everyone farts.
The one thing that would make this weekend perfect is if I had someone to go to Disneyland with today—it’s asking for much, given that this weekend has already been pretty incredible, but still. It’d be pretty rad…I still want to catch all the holiday decorations before they take it all down.
I’ve gotta find where the cute girls who have a knack for vintage fashion are around here.
Yeah, I’d really like an iPad. Actually, two iPads. It could change the way I make music…and I’ve decided that I’d like to become an iPad DJ—I’m pretty convinced that it could re-shape DJ culture the same way that Serato/Scratch Live did: Innovation, simplicity, and a lot of controversy.
Okay, I think I’ve got some options as far as picking up some extra scratch behind a bar-top. Time to start slinging drinks on the side again.
Gonna start taking hip-hop dance classes later next year.
How is it that I fist-pumped in my holiday argyle sweater within the same hour that I ballroom danced with a girl at the bar last night?
Happy Chrimbus, y’all. I hope you get what you want. I hope that girl I like will appreciate the hair doll I made of her. If not, the necklace attached to that small vial of my blood should definitely get me in her good graces.
It’s college bowl season, which means you’ll be hearing this song after commercial breaks on ESPN…it’s a lot better than that Dave Matthews shit that they were playing during the BCS bowls.
You know, that’s what comes to mind when I think of college football: Dudes in flip-flops who want to play hacky-sack in the quad while their buddy is playing guitar trying to serenade sorority girls by playing some hack version of "Crash Into Me."
Have you ever figured out those moments when it’s more important to be a friend than a savior? Like, you fight all your male tendencies to be the hero and figure that there’s a different “right answer?” You’re not just thinking about the other person, but you’re also taking into consideration what’s right for you? Yeah, yeah, yeah…abstract questions are abstract. Whatever. I had some Chimay Bleue and Delirium Tremens tonight, so I’m gonna analyze some shit before I go to bed tonight.
I’m pretty sure that songs like this exist solely for the fact that they remind me that I would like a girlfriend who I could take dancing lessons with so that we could cut a rug at some cocktail party the same way that Pete and Trudy Campbell did in that one episode of Mad Men where Roger Sterling was in blackface.