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Jesus I wuz whiny in yesterday's entry. Don't think I don't know. "Waiting for sedation to disconnect my head. Or any situation where I'm better off than dead..." I am quoting Elliott Smith far too often here I think. --I've gotten three new people hooked up with icq in the past few days. Very cool, since I already know these people and, obviously, like them. So I don't have to just talk with those typical lost soul weirdo techie icq addict boys who had been hounding me with messages. This is better indeed. Though I'm still playing invisible. You just gotta guess if I'm home or not.
You know, random guys keep sending me messages, either through ICQ or just e-mail, about my bedroom site, that Andy did on/for me. They get really involved. Taunted, tarnished, pissed off, and teased. They like the overall vibe of sexual innuendos. Then they get to the rants page and get back to me all pissed off and wanting explanations.
I want one of those pet name tags Shareen wuz talking about. It reminded me I once wuz called "Punky". And "Poet". And I secretly loved it. I can't remember the site it wuz at though. And fuck, this net connection I have is SHITTY.
I just found this great site that I'm quite in love with now. garageband.com George Martin, of Beatles fame, is a driving force behind it. I'm not sure if he is it's founder. One of it's founders anyways. The story is, you go there and listen to a bunch of songs by artists you no doubt have never heard of, and you review the songs. Once you've reviewed ten songs you can upload a song of your own, and people have to review it. The reviews are compiled, tallied up, averaged, and at the end of some period of time the band that has scored the best gets a record deal.
It's damn fun! The power of reviewing... Well, I'll be. That song sure sucked. And I'm gonna tell 'em so! Or... this song is beautiful. I don't want it to fade forever into obscurity, I'm giving it a gorgeous review.
(I did my reviewing duties and now have "Homewrecker" on there.)
What a genius idea! Godbless that George Martin. Wait a minute, am I getting the Beatles George's mixed up again? You know that I mean their producer right?
"My hands are reaching for you everywhere, but you're not there." This is so dangerous, I'm so in the season to fall in love. I think it's this cold ominous October thing. Want something warm. Warm Love. And what am I doing alone? Tasty young thing that I am. Excuse me for saying so...
And Jesus I am still aching for chocolate. I never did come out and say thank you to the person who sent me the box of Turtles. I felt awkward just SAYING it. But thank you. BIG thank you. Those chocolates kept me happy for a whole 24 hours. And they still make me smile.
Janis Joplin says,