Euripides Eumendides

Also, the crazy guy who died from all the running, his name wasn't Marathon, it was Philippides. They named the city of Philadelphia after him. True story. Except for the Philadelphia part, which I made up.

You can't really plan to drink on a Saturday afternoon. I mean, it is possible to plan it, but you kind of have to question why you'd be making those kinds of degenerate plans in advance. If you're going to be a degenerate, it's best to let the degeneration happen naturally. Like, say your plan was to make gnocchi and watch a baseball game. Then you're like, "Well, I could have some wine, that would spice up this otherwise Zen experience." Because you don't always want Zen on a Saturday afternoon. Then you're like, "well, since I drank half of that bottle of wine, I'd better drink half of another." And all of a sudden, you've become drunk on a Saturday afternoon. It's a magical thing, but like all magical things, it's best to let them find you than to seek them out yourself.
Here's to drunken Saturday afternoons, and sober Saturday nights.

I keep writing songs that prominently feature articles of clothing. Red shirts. Socks. Et-cetera. I made a silent promise to myself (that is being aired here for the first time on the internet! Amazing!) that I wouldn't write any more songs about girls if I could help it. I feel like 25 out of 40-or-so songs being focused on the babes is a bit too high of a ratio. So I'm cutting myself off. My subconscious, in retaliation, makes lyrics about clothing items and crossing streets. All metaphorical and shit. I mean, what is this, poetry or something? I'm trying to write a fuckin' song here! Come on, subconscious, do your stuff! I need vivid imagery! Catchy hooks! Irony (but not too much irony, lest I cross the hipster threshold and end up in Alanis Morrisette-Land.). My several-person fandom requires it!
Here's to my subconscious/song-writing ego: id, the internet salutes you.

And tonight, I go to see Lair of the Minotaur.

Latiflearned.com - Go Listen