July 30, 2004

Music: 100 Greatest Guitar Solos Of All Time

Every guitarist has opinions on what some of the greatest recorded guitar solos are. While there are many that are commonly regarded as "great", there are lots of others that don't get as much attention.

Fun: Everyone Loves Power Tools

I want to go out and buy them right now.

July 29, 2004

Poetry: Sweet As You Are

Why do I do what I do when I tell you
I love you with that gleam in my eyes
You're wild and no good and not a bit misunderstood
And it's not as if I never realized

The cowboys in the bar have a laugh at my back
When I hold the door for your untamed cheating heart
Some guy called last night and asked for you by name
And still I love you as much as I did from the start

You lie and you drink
Swear in church at my mom
You flirted in front of me
With my sleazy Uncle John
Disappear for days
And tell me you 'needed your space'
Come to my bed with his smile still in your arms

Some friends think I'm crazy for staying with you
Some friends think there must be something in it for me
But in the end I just love you, as sweet as you are
Because you're everything I imagine you to be

Why do I do what I do when I tell you
I love you with that gleam in my eyes
You're wild and no good, but you're mine half the time
And that's what they don't realize

July 28, 2004

Poetry: Cherished Beyond The Fable

Jesus wept for the children
They say he died for you and I
Sitting here on the corner though
I can't see why he might have made that sacrifice
There's no peace on Earth
No good will for men
No feast upon the table
No gifts underneath the Christmas tree
For all who cherish Jesus beyond the fable
What could that old Jew have done
While there are wars being fought
And good men hung
If we have failed, then he failed me too
Christ the savior what have you allowed us to
And if the ill in man was so damned grand
That it couldn't be fixed by your resurrection plan
Why would anyone want to save our souls at all?
Why build a temple wall and let it fall?
Jesus Christ, I hope you had a ball.
You're dead and now we've got to live with your shopping malls.

There's no peace on Earth
No good will for men
No feast upon the table
No gifts under that Christmas tree
For all who cherish Jesus beyond the fable
You say that every starving child
Is just an example of your mysterious ways
The cancer wards
The useless dead
Explain what we're buying when we pray?
Why should I try to believe in you,
when thou hast forsaken me?
Sorry God I just can't do it
take the finger instead of bended knee.

Poetry: Southern Gentleman

In the dirt of the mornin' I slip my boots back on
Wander to the fields to watch the day raise dawn
Got some grass in my teeth and my cap for my head
A truck in my driveway says take my gun when I'm dead
Jus' a poor cotton picker from South Alabam
I do it like I do because that's the only way I can
I got whiskey in my bottles because it pours comfort in my name
Kudzu on my barn, yeah everything's the same
Don't call me a redneck or a hick if you're a fool
You big city boys screw up everything you do
I've got corn in my backfield and some taters on the vine
Can't take away what's mine all mine
My kids were born here and one day I'll rise again from this ground
Not ashamed of who I am because my daddy taught me proud
And you folks from the city that never get no dirt on your hands
Never go fishing or watch NASCAR, you don't understand
I was born in the South and in Georgia here I'll die
As long as you don't tell me what to do
We don't have to see eye to eye
But if you come to my town and tell me there's nothing right
Our floor's too dirty or it's too hot to sleep at night
Go back to your freeways and your murder capitals too
Cuz I'll tell you something that ole' Hank always knew
You can take the country to the city and city to the land
But you can't wash away the Dixie from a Southern Gentleman
I was born in the South and in Georgia here I'll die
But let me tell you cousin, the South will survive
The South will survive

I know, the only thing worse than reading my bad poems is reading my bad country songs. Suffer.

July 27, 2004

Poetry: Spinning With A Nosebleed

I wish you were here
Naked with me
Naked like me
I wish we were naked
Naked together
Out in the sun
Out in the light
Out of the night
And we could be naked
Naked together
I'd show my wounds
You'd show yours too
Blood on the grass
Bright green and dark red
Blood on our hands
Naked together

I'll bring my cross
You bring one too
You bring your mother
I'll bring my zoo
Bury my heart
Into the sand
Under the grass
Blood on our hands
Blood on our hands

I'll be like you
You'll eat my tongue
I'll never speak
You'll speak for me
Out in the sun
Out in the light
Carry me home
Drink the tears that I cry

I wish you were here
Naked like me
Naked with me
Drifting like me
Cover my eyes
While I praise your wrists
When I was little
I used to dream it would be like this.

Poetry: Don't Make Me Let You Stay

You're always asking me
Now, is it time?
How long can you stand there
Waiting for your dreams?

I wish I could tell you why.

If I could start moving
And not be afraid
Of tumbling from the sky

I know you're out there
Praying for the day.
Please go away, please, please,
Don't make me let you stay.

I wish I could tell you.

If I could only form the words.
Don't make this harder for me,
Listen to the silences that you've heard.

I'm here and I stay, day after day.
Locked somewhere inside,
I can't leave this safety anymore.

Do you hear that knocking,
the sound outside your door?
You're always asking me,
asking me for more.

If I could tell you, I would tell you how.
But there's something broken inside me now.

I know the world's not perfect,
But I remember how to bleed.
I know that how to fly like a bird,
But she took away my wings.

I know you're out there
Praying for the day.
Please go away, please, please,
Don't make me let you stay.

July 18, 2004

Politics: This Is The Shit: Now With Actual Talent!

"It started with this "letter to a son" that has been making the rounds. We had had an IM discussion earlier in the week, and I had made the mistake of telling her that my father-in-law (who was a Bush voter in 2000) and I had gone to see Fahrenheit 911. She said that she thought it was a piece of propaganda (of course, without having seen it) and so I tried to change the subject. She told me that she would be forwarding the above-mentioned e-mail to me. I told her I would read it and do my best to respond thoughtfully to it."

Basically this guy gave his mother an honest review of his thoughts and she attacked him for it. What is Bush, a fucking President or a guru? Does this mean that Cheney and Rumsfield will soon be chopping off their balls and trying to hitch a ride to paradise on a comet?

Quiz: Which Tarot Card Are You

The Magician
You are the Magician card. Magick is the use of the
will to effect change in reality. The will is
the ability to direct knowledge and experience
towards an end goal. The Magician is capable of
manipulating his environment because he knows
it so well. He effects the thoughts and
emotions of those around him. Therefore, the
Magician is often thought of as an artist,
writing or speaking in a way that strongly
influences others. The Magician understands how
to bring concepts into form and how to express
metaphysical concepts in a physical way. He is
seen with the symbols of each suit: a disk, a
cup, a sword and a wand. These symbols are each
a physical expression of a concept. They are
The Magician's tools. Following after The Fool,
The Magician acts as a messenger. His planet is
Mercury, who is Messenger of the Gods. He
brings The Fool into the new world that The
Fool seeks. The Magician represents the act of
creation. Because he can use his knowledge to
form something new, he seems to be able to make
a thing appear out of a void. Image from: L. S.

Which Tarot Card Are You?
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I knew this, but it's always fun to rattle off answers really quickly and get the same result or pull it from the deck every time when someone asks. I fucking rock.

Quiz: Which of the Greek Gods Are You


?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
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July 09, 2004

Humor: More American

Two families move from Pakistan to America. When they arrive, the two fathers make a bet. In a year's time whichever family had become more American would win.

A year later, they meet again. The first man says in a drawl, "My son is playing little league baseball, I had McDonald's for breakfast and I'm my way to pick up a case of Bud. How about you?"

The second man replies, "Fuck you, towelhead."