On why you should pay me to be around you
September 13, 2009 § Leave a comment
It’s SUNDAY for God’s sakes, don’t make me have to write.
Last night I figured I could dance to just about anything. It’s exhilarating to feel the power of the beat and believe that you can pull off just about any move that your body produces. Given enough shots, that is. The youth is absolutely insane, THE KIDS MUST BE FUCKING CRAZY. This is the kind of shit that makes me feel like a 50 year-old trying to adapt to an environment that is way ahead-or is it behind?- me. The youth is pretty much obsessed with the strange noise they call electronic music. When played in a certain environment, one really begins to look like a strange puppet being moved around. They all dress funny as hell anyway, when they make those movements-and their popularity enhances they become little dolls of delight frolicking around in their highlighter pink pants [so fucking hot], message t-shirts [so fucking not-especially those that put the wearer in a higher position than the reader] and questionable footwear [and i say questionable because who wears black satin stilettos to a beach party]. This is all wonderful, don’t get me wrong, and as bendable as I am I can fucking adapt to any shit-even though my scene will always be a rock bar wearing black and metallics, drinking whiskey and beer all night and in the end of it all I will be strutting around singing Madonna songs. But really I am happy at almost everywhere, it’s really the drinks, no, people? that’s around you, right?
Of course, like everything else in the universe, this blog also has the purpose that is finding me something else to do rather than whiskeying around in dirty, loud places, looking up my friend’s TAROT fortunes and following the million blogs I click into every bloody day. I am not sure what it is finding yet-don’t we all find ourselves every day little by little through every experience we have?-but I can feel that it is going to somewhere warm and cozy, of course MY warm and cozy really is leather and chains, because I am kinky like that. But no fluffy things on shoes, please, only in headgear and MAYBE a bracelet or two. Getting off topic as always, I guess this must be a sign that I am in desperate need to find something to do-and immediately. So as i continue rambling on for another couple of weeks, until I find the purpose in being a 22 young bright unemployed thing and you find exactly what it is that you like reading about this shit.
And its Fashion Week, too. Don’t make me fucking cry already.