Old band with fan-(atically)tastic web site
Record company for the future
He knew all the time
A very quiet place, hear it scurry!
Where the weary exiles play...
We could be heroes (by not writing like this)
You burn me up like a cigarette
I'm talking about writing. Writing what? That's a more difficult question for some ne'er-do-wells BUT to me the answer is ob(li)vious: WORDS.
Yeah, that's right. WORDS. Those pesky things which fly out of your mouth without forethought when replying to your loved ones or your bosses or doodled when sitting on a train. It's not difficult to understand that they're a pain in the ___. Look at all the cliches we hide with to cover up the fact that they're DAMN HARD to locate, tranquilize and taxiderm properly": "On the tip of my tongue -- which if it was, look in da mirror and read it backwards -- "I jsut forgot what I was going to say.." -- good for you. And so on, and so forth ad nauseum Amen. Now, fer me at least, the purpose to this whateveritisi'mtyping is this: completetly and utterly selfish. Begging question: please, please please, tell us whats in front of your ? mr man. I guess, if I had it in me, I could throw out a few generalized phrases for all you fan of topics out there, so here they are: WORDS, rock and roll, political theory, boo, hiss, encore!, pull lever for tray tilt. nyah nyah nyah.
The only reason why I think whatever it was/is I'm typing here /there is important is because for one reason (usually it's on a smoke break with the other cognitive functions, mind you) or another (rhymes with other) is these strings of non binary characters have to appear on the page exactly as your eyes think they do. or Don't.
