Cut Your Hair
by Pavement:

Darlin' don't you go and cut your hair
Do you think it's gonna make him change?
"I'm just a boy with a new haircut"
And that's a pretty nice haircut
Charge it like a puzzle
Hit men wearing muzzles
Hesitate you die
Look around, around
The second drummer drowned
His telephone is found

Music scene is crazy
Bands start up each and every day
I saw another one just the other day
A special new band
I remember lying
I don't remember a line
I don't remember a word
But I don't care, I care, I really don't care
Did you see the drummer's hair?

Advertising looks and chops a must
No big hair!
Songs mean a lot when songs are bought
And so are you
Face right down to the practice room
tension and fame's our career
career, career, career

Slightly Updated

Wow, all my comrades have posted, I'm impressed. Maybe Justin will come around soon. I think he has writer's block permanently (hope not)? I've added a bunch of junk-a-cola to the site. More updated detail of the staff. More blogs listed (our new friends). Many more music links (for anyone who cares). A bunch of things to get us more hits. And a partridge in a pear tree. I'm tired and I'm ready to be done looking at this site. I need a job. The School has been having a book sale. I walked out of there with thirty books today for $1.00 and about 2/3 of them went on Amazon. Please check out my inventory [Books For Sale --->], a lot of the books are really cheap. Help me pay the bills. I would say take a gander at Chase's, but he already out sells me. I think that's it. I went to a wedding two weekends ago, my friend Leslie's wedding is this weekend, and I'm a groomsmen in a wedding in another week. Am I missing something?

"Now it's time to say good night, good night, sleep tight. Now the sun turns out his light, good night, sleep tight. Dream sweet dreams for me. Dream sweet dreams for you. Close your eyes and I'll close mine. Good night, sleep tight." The Beatles, Good Night, from The Beatles (White Album).

It's a shame that George Washington's mom never had a picture of him.

Parents just don't understand.

When I get something right in my life, my folks want all the credit. When I get something wrong I receive all the blame. I'm all about taking responsibility for my actions. Afterall, that's what being growed up is all about. So, I say "Let's Share!"

I'm supposedly an adult which means I get in trouble for my mistakes. But, let's be fair. One of the major tasks we have as adults is to work through all the ways that our wonderful parents managed to screw me up. "Your Bad, My Bad. Let's call it even. Get off my back!"

How is that I have the insight to recognize that once upon a time my parents were new at this living thing and that no one gets it right the first time around? Why am I more forgiving of how they've screwed me up than they are of how I've screwed up?

Sometimes Presents Aren’t Good Enough

(This is for my friend Melissa Bearden on her 21st birthday)

The light from those candles leads my heart on
Because you can’t just live off of sunrises at dawn
God painted beautiful portraits of life in their own formation
You are one of these without exception

Please don’t argue, there’s not time today
You really don’t have to walk away
I think we can get you to understand this
There isn’t too much that I can’t resist

But, I can’t help it; one is your smile
Another is the way you make me feel
Tomorrow may never come
At least that’s a chance that you’ll be near

You really ought to know
Just how great you are
There are a million things I could wish for
Right now, my desire is for you to walk through this door

I would sit you down and play you a song
Wearing my heart out just so you could see
How much you mean
To everyone in the world, including me

I deal in words and phrases
Not in pictures and sentiments
If this is an illustration of what you mean to me
I hope I painted this well enough so that you can see

You are a beautiful woman
Who has an amazingly kind heart
If I was ever lucky enough to be around you
I would never want to be apart

If You Have Money, Give it to Jeff




He's poor, pitiful and hungry. After he got robbed again recently I thought it would be cool if there was a way that we could all show our support. Then, it occured to me: Paypal is the answer. So if you feel the urging do the wallet purging. Help a brother out, seriously!

Heterosexuals Have Rights Too

Here in Graceville, the rain has not stop coming for hours. It has pretty much been raining all day. As I listened to the storm beg for land to flood, I began to think about rain itself. It obviously comes from God and replenishes the earth's water intake, but how does it benefit me personally? I think I understood today what it can do for you. I used to get annoyed when I would have to go out and get wet. Now, I don't know, it could be fun. I love being in my apartment when it rains because it makes it a whole lot cooler. I just don't like to get wet is all. I know a lot of people agree with me. But there are some people who enjoy walking in the rain and are thrilled to get the opportunity. I used to think that was crazy, but I can now understand why those people like it; it is quite comforting. I'm learning and trying, really! Today, I chose to walk barefoot to check my mail during the rainstorm. Of course, I brought an umbrella because I'm still learning but I did enjoy the wetness. It brought a nice feeling over me. I don't know if I'll ever go without my umbrella, but I can appreciate the sentiment of walking in the rain. Go try it if it's raining where you live. You can always practice in the shower first.

"It's been a long time since I felt the rain upon my head." Further Seems Forever

I'm Gay, So What?

Disregard the title. I took it from another blog. I'm back from Starke now. I had a blast. I'll write more later, but it was definitely a nice break from the drudge of day-to-day living, even by my unemployed standards. By the way, the game Taboo is great fun. I think that's it. A big shout out to Chase for taking care of my crib. Holla 'atcha later my nizzles!

I may not always love you. But long as there are stars above you. You never need to doubt it. I'll make you so sure about it. God only knows what I'd be without you. If you should ever leave me. Though life would still go on believe me. The world could show nothing to me. So what good would living do me? The Beach Boys, God only knows, from Pet Sounds.

Breaking News from Apt. 8

I'm reporting to you live from inside the walls of the Watkins' home, hidden in a swell of darkness that is the most crime-ridden ghetto in all of North Florida.

Hookers, Gangbangers, Cokeheads, Thugs, and of course, former city council members all make their residence here in this hotbed of depravity. Decent human beings and upright citizens could never be comfortable in this place.

Three weeks ago Mr. Watkins, 23, had gone to a friends' house to watch footage of grown men grappling one another. Sometime between 8 and 10 o'clock the perpetrator(s) entered into his apartment through an unlocked window. He/She/They got away with an Apex DVD player.

Mr. Watkins wasn't all too miffed. He knew material loss could easily be recooped. When I spoke with him I warned that if this reaches trial his fanship of 'wrestling' could be used to incriminate him.

Sadly, when the next Monday night rolled around the same thing happened. Mr. Watkins had locked his windows and doors since the first incident. So, the perp(s) busted out a bedroom window. Apparently, one of the perp(s) cut his/her hand. There was blood and glass everywhere. This time they got away with 20 DVDs, some Christmas music on CD-R (which hardened criminals like this couldn't appreciate anyway) and worst of all, Mr. Watkins' sense of security.

Now he felt violated. He/she/they had gone too far. It was time for some serious action. Soon I took on the role of night watchmen. That brings us up to last night.

When I stepped out of the car, I smelled the smell of death and heard distant gunshots. I remembered what it was like to live in a warzone. Moments later I heard a noise in the front yard. I stared intently into the shadows. I fired several rounds. At the sound of whimpering I felt victory. It turned out to be a squirrel, but you can never be too safe.

Hours later I was standing guard on the front porch when an old man appeared on the road. He looked kindly enough, so I didn't shoot him. Instead, I yelled "Get out of here!" and fired into the air. He tried to run, but couldn't. I felt guilty for shaking him up so I murmured, "sorry 'bout that. my bad."

The noises of evil were brought to a low roar. Knowing I had scared the devil to sleep I went to bed myself. Thus far this morning everything has remained as calm. I don't expect that will last. I don't believe the worst is over. Darkness looms.

This has been a live update from Apt. 8

More later...