I’m afraid the world has gone too retro crazy.
It is 2006 and today I’ve heard Paula Abdul songs twice by complete happenstance. What year is this exactly?
Today is also the dreaded 13th.
Dum dum dum
And it is Friday too.
I wore all black to celebrate. Next week “The Nightmare Before Christmas” is coming out again (in 3-D no less!) I’m also pretty sure it isn’t coming anywhere near here. It is times like this I long for the type of city that would support my strange tastes. I’m pretty sure more than a few theatres in Seattle will carry the film and plenty of 20 and 30 somethings will show up to watch a twisted Tim Burton cartoon in 3D.
I guess it is days like this I start to drift off and wonder why I don’t like Florida so much. I don’t have to shovel off my drive-way. Most of the people are friendly enough. So what is my beef? I’m pretty content to never quite belong or fit in with the masses. So maybe I secretly just sort of morbidly long to not fit in. Maybe just a smidge. No? OK, I guess not.
I‘d speculate this place I call home was my first and finest dysfunctional relationship. I loathe everything it stands for and it bombards me with 8 months a year of humidity and heat. While the sunshine state beats me like a Lifetime movie house wife, I’m too damn chicken to escape it’s warm embrace. The good news it will be paved over within my lifetime and once the last alligator is crushed by a strip mall, I’m pretty sure the state will begin sinking.
So long panhandle rednecks, pensioners, New Yorican transplants, lovers of bad house music, guys with noisy Civics, ex-cheerleader pharmaceutical reps, Goth-hicks, Trustafarians, West Palm millionaires, Miami relatives, Parrotheads, radio shock jocks, MILFS, GILFS, Young Lifers, pro balers and everyone in between. You made a nice run of it, but someday all that will be left of the state is a couple of visors, a gold plated muffler, 3 bottles of Viagra and whatever else happens to float back t the surface. At least Atlanta will get the beach access it has always longed for.
It is 2006 and today I’ve heard Paula Abdul songs twice by complete happenstance. What year is this exactly?
Today is also the dreaded 13th.
Dum dum dum
And it is Friday too.
I wore all black to celebrate. Next week “The Nightmare Before Christmas” is coming out again (in 3-D no less!) I’m also pretty sure it isn’t coming anywhere near here. It is times like this I long for the type of city that would support my strange tastes. I’m pretty sure more than a few theatres in Seattle will carry the film and plenty of 20 and 30 somethings will show up to watch a twisted Tim Burton cartoon in 3D.
I guess it is days like this I start to drift off and wonder why I don’t like Florida so much. I don’t have to shovel off my drive-way. Most of the people are friendly enough. So what is my beef? I’m pretty content to never quite belong or fit in with the masses. So maybe I secretly just sort of morbidly long to not fit in. Maybe just a smidge. No? OK, I guess not.
I‘d speculate this place I call home was my first and finest dysfunctional relationship. I loathe everything it stands for and it bombards me with 8 months a year of humidity and heat. While the sunshine state beats me like a Lifetime movie house wife, I’m too damn chicken to escape it’s warm embrace. The good news it will be paved over within my lifetime and once the last alligator is crushed by a strip mall, I’m pretty sure the state will begin sinking.
So long panhandle rednecks, pensioners, New Yorican transplants, lovers of bad house music, guys with noisy Civics, ex-cheerleader pharmaceutical reps, Goth-hicks, Trustafarians, West Palm millionaires, Miami relatives, Parrotheads, radio shock jocks, MILFS, GILFS, Young Lifers, pro balers and everyone in between. You made a nice run of it, but someday all that will be left of the state is a couple of visors, a gold plated muffler, 3 bottles of Viagra and whatever else happens to float back t the surface. At least Atlanta will get the beach access it has always longed for.
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