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[Oct 8, 2025 * 7:55am] |
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M. Ward: Lullaby + Exile |
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Oh, a trance is a spell with a thrill wrapped up inside it. And try as you might to fight it, love will get you in the end. And then the sound of a bell, could sound like angel's crying, or sunlight multiplying. Through Virgin Mary in stained glass. And then a lullaby on Broadway, could sound like an exile out on Main. Oh, when that curtain closes, you'll be back in your seat again. And then the band, starts the ball. When the chandelier starts glowing, with or without you knowing, who the partner, what the dance. Oh, a trance is a spell, with a thrill wrapped up inside it and try as you might to fight it love will get you in, love will get you in, love will get you in...( the end )
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| three; why would you lie 'bout something dumb like that? |
[Nov 3, 2008 * 10:45pm] |
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Vampire Weekend: Oxford Comma |
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Good God am I so glad that Halloween comes once a year. It's a glorious thing, really, the decision to have it on a fixed date. I mean, it's not like Easter, is it? You know the 31st of October is coming up, so you put a bag ass bag of sweets out the front door and hide inside with the lights off and hope that no kids realise that the laughter coming from behind the door isn't just some mad ghost.
This year Doug and I went a bit further than usual and I got him to run backwards and forwards in front of the upstairs windows, with a cack load of fake blood all over him screaming. I know, I know it's awful but you should have seen their faces. It was too funny to pass up on that kind of thing, you know? And if we all have to endure this God awful frigging holiday at least there can be some kind of benefit if we try hard enough to find it, right? Doug seems to enjoy it, anyway, and from what I gather from his teacher he's been going around telling everyone how he managed to scare the crap out of the kids down the street.
Still, as I was forced to act as the dutiful and (supposedly) normal parent-type person I am now in possession of three carrier bags full of sweets. Read 'em and weep, sweethearts, THREE. And that's with some frigging eaten and all. So, who wants 'em? They're good for your teeth and general health, hand to God.
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| two; we carried this inside like some disease we couldn't beat |
[Oct 19, 2008 * 3:55pm] |
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Voxtrot: Ghost |
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I would like to apologise in advance. Although I'm quite sure that my son is a Little Angel and Darling (LAD for short), there's always the chance that when he's not glued to his toys or the window (there are some precious dogs who like to fight with each other next door and he loves watching them) he's a little terror. Who's fond of paint.
Because of this I strongly advise people to not have paint sitting near their desks and hide all colourful ink, at least in the Muggle-worthy Excuses Committee offices. Yes, even visitors. I mean, I'm quite sure that there are those of us who would love to walk around with yellow ink all over the front of our shirts but as proved last year there are some of us who get quite grumpy when that happens. Who'd have thunk it, you know?
As an aside: why has no one yet invented crisps that don't stick in your bloody teeth? Imagine how glorious that would be. No need to brush teeth vigorously after eating a lovely pack of salt and vinegar. Fucking fantastic.
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| one; go on and fool me like your biggest fan |
[Oct 16, 2008 * 7:56am] |
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Emilie Autumn: I Know Where You Sleep |
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I have a dislike for airing my dirty laundry out in public. I like my dirty socks where my dirty socks should be and my muddy jumpers tucked away where only my eyes will see them. And as if these'll be used for office communication. I can see the pages upon pages of absolutely entertaining gossip, though, that'll likely be chatted about during lunch or some such thing.
Well, at least they're going to give us something, right?
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