Creeping meatballism, Creeping meatballism, Creeping meatballism!
I feel much better, and no, I don't know what creeping meatballism is (though I get the impression it has something to do with the insidious influence of advertising on one's desires, dreams, and general life goals).
Thank you dictionary.com. I forgot about "raffish." Raffish is a fine word and is a good adjective to describe most of the men I find attractive. Another word one might use is "unkempt," though my friends have preferred to use the word "dirty." But that's because my friends are illiterate assholes.
Saw a possum last night. Alive. It might be my first one. I've seen cartoon possums before, most memorably and scarringly in The Goofy Movie (which, by the way, had a ROCKING soundtrack -- yeah, Powerline!).
I have a post-Valentine's Day playlist for you to get you up and at'em.
Give Me Some Lovin by The Spencer Davis Group
Grace Kelly by Mika
Local God by Everclear
Laura by Scissor Sisters
Bang a Gong (Get it On) by T. Rex
Scarecrow by Beck
Soul Meets Body by Death Cab for Cutie
Cigarettes Will Kill You by Ben Lee
Come on Eileen by Dexy's Midnight Runners
Glorious #1 by Remy Zero
Shadows by Rufus Wainwright
September by Earth, Wind and Fire
Fisherman's Blues by The Waterboys
Don't You Worry Bout A Thing by John Legend (or Stevie Wonder)
Gramarye by Remy Zero
I'm not entirely sure it should go in that order, but that's a damn good list. I have alot of good music, I think.
I'd put a little Harry Nillson and Peter Cincotti down too, but I think that would have been better yesterday.
Chapter 9 of Moby Dick is friggin' genius. I wish I had read it before I wrote my first book of poems, Tarshish. I think it would have been a great boon to my work.
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