Like, We Ain't Even Bothered
Friday, 10 December 2010 | 11:04 pm
No picture for this post because I can't bloody decide.
Well, holy shit.
The bass is better on the earphones when dressed with sponges. I keep telling Ma that they keep slipping off like it's not my business and, get this: she reasoned with me that the hole of my ears are small, which is hard to believe because that would mean the diameter of the earphones are smaller compared to the hole of my ears. Is that what she's saying? Would that not mean the hole of my ears are actually big? WHAT? Or is it the other way round? I'm so confused.
It doesn't matter; such matters should not worry me too much. My ears are feeling so snug and warm right now, like bracing the cold weather in just a baggy, comfortably fuzzy, warm sweatshirt one wet afternoon some time ago that made me just want to cuddle and — just be.
Good times.
I broke my Friday tradition today by not playing the Le Hardstyle Domine playlist because, apparently, my On-The-Go 3 plays songs that inject some kind of high in me, like, it doesn't matter that I'm sacrificing my vacation hours to fatten my bank account because I am high without the drugs. A healthy high, how about that, aye?
And the playlist only has two songs, but I have to give much thanks to the banging awesomeness that is
Manga (maNga?) maNga for saying
"I don't think they'll give up the rage," and
"I could love you more than they hate". Those words kind of fed my
almost-on-indefinite-hibernation plot bunny to fucking life.
About time you woke up, bunny.
Also: I think Sarabia looks like someone. I just don't know who. I've been trying to figure it out. I'd hug Benz but maybe I'd just squirt water from the same bottle Pepe used on Sarabia instead. A hat-trick. A fucking hat-trick. IMPRESSED.
Oh, and happy 23rd, Pipa.
I'm on a mission with my plot bunny. Welcome to the soon-ending 2010.
Be mushrooms.