...Hey all, it's time for some more random ramblings, those little thoughts that I can't quite work an entire blog entry up about, or don't want to because sometimes just one or two sentences seems to say it all...
Was listening to Rod Stewart's "Rhythm of my Heart" the other day on the radio. I wonder if it hurts when you have lightning in your veins. Can anyone tell me that?
And does anyone really care what time it is (except for when it's time to go home)?
I have this great idea for a novel I'd love to write, but I'm struggling with the ideas running around in my brain. I'm thinking that some time off from work might help me figure it out, but I'm having a hard time with the idea of going to my boss and saying "I need a month off, because I need to figure out how to kill someone, hide the body and get away with it scott-free."
I'm sure the reaction would be priceless...but the fallout might not be good.
Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to write up some verbal napalm, deliver it and have the target completely miss the point?
After attending a stitching GTG this weekend, I noticed I had a stitch in my side (one of the pain ones, not a real stitch) and mentioned it to DH. The resulting conversation?
Me: Ow. I have a stitch in my side.
DH: Those are supposed to be in the shirt, not you.
Me: I know. But a stitch I have.
DH: Well, I guess you're going to have to frog it out.
I looked at the Dovos and realized that those probably would make the situation worse.
Radio station DJs should not do math in their heads while on the air. Recent live example of this:
DJ finishes playing The Allman Brothers "Melissa" and says that was a very popular name in 1972 when that song was released. Then she says if you just turned 35 in March, and your name is Melissa, then your parents were really tuned into the music scene as March 1972 is when that album was released.
I stopped and stared at the radio for a minute before shaking my head and thinking they shouldn't allow DJs to do math on the air. After all, I was born in July 1971
, and I'm pretty sure that I'm only 34.
I suppose there could be an exception to the rule, and there could be some strange temporal distortion that makes anyone named Melissa who was born in March 1972 is required to be 35, but I should think that we would have heard about that sort of bad luck already, don't you think?
Have you ever given thought to the way people answer the simple question of "How are you doing?"
Some people answer "pretty good" and some answer "not bad". What's the difference between the two? Are the people who are answering the first way more optimistic than those answering the second way? Or are the people who are answering the second way expecting something to go wrong?
Or am I reading way too much into that one? For the record, I usually answer "pretty darn good" myself.
Back to music. For those who are fans, I have a comment about Def Leppard's "Foolin'" track. That song has to be the most schizophrenic song I've ever heard. It changes feel at least 3 times (from the soft beginning about lady luck, to the plea of 'is anybody out there' and then into the chorus of "f-f-f-foolin'").
Was that supposed to be 3 songs originally, and they just shoved them together and it worked, or did they write it that way on purpose...
I just got a piece of spam that's titled "Avoid Divorce, get a bigger prick"....
... I thought getting rid of a big prick was the reason some seek a divorce.
That's it for me and my rambles for the moment... have a great day!