Okay, now that they've cut that out....
Two tiny, but oh so cool little thaaaangs...
First off, I am the official first commenter over at Gut Rumbles for 2005!*semi-smug-type grin* Second, I can remember sitting in the office at Wellacrest at midnight Dec. 31st, 1999, waiting to see if the computer was gonna blow up or die because of 2000. I had the radio on and the first song I heard was "Imagine".
Well, I did imagine and I sat there and bawled my eyes out. This year however, I am gonna make the first song I hear be "Comfortably Numb", since I can, since my other wonderful Rob got me a replacement of "The Wall" for Christmas, at Eric's suggestion I might add. Do I know some truly excellent men, or what? One second, whilst I get the CD player going....
(Still some numbnuts out there with what sound like those little annoying firecrackers that people are constantly blowing their fingers off with. One can only hope.... *snicker* Bitch, ain't I?) Ahhhhh... Hello.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home? Come on, now.
I hear you’re feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again. Relax.
I need some information first.
Just the basic facts:
Can you show me where it hurts? There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re sayin’.
When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I can’t explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb. Ok.
Just a little pinprick. [ping]
There’ll be no more --aaaaaahhhhh!
But you may feel a little sick. Can you stand up?
I do believe it’s working. good.
That’ll keep you going for the show.
Come on it’s time to go. There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re sayin’.
When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb. Jeezus, this is a beautiful song. The guitar playing is beyond compare. The melody, the words, the meaning.... just as close to perfection as you can get. Dear God,
Thank you for allowing me to be alive during the era that this music and Southern Fried Rock and Skynyrd and Stevie Ray and Led Zepplin and all the rest of the best of rock and roll existed. It's helped more than I can ever explain. It's healed more of me than I can almost believe. It's held me in it's soulful, caring, understanding and ultimately comforting hands all my life. Or, maybe that was You. Sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference. It's in You and You are in it. And, you're both in me.
Thank you again for this.... Such beauty in my life.... Thank you, too, Pink Floyd.
I only wish y'all could know what you've done for me. Somebody please make sure this gets played at my funeral, okay?
This, some Skynyrd, a lot of SRV, maybe a little Clapton and if there's time, some Barry White would be good, too. So would some AC/DC, actually...
I've thought about this a lot, ya know. I don't want some mopey, dopey funeral. I want people there in jeans and T-shirts, comfortable and easy. I want there to be shots available at the door and good rock-n-roll playing, not that funeral dirge shit.... No crying, nobody is crying over me now, so don't start that shit then, either. Don't waste money on flowers that're only gonna die, too. Take that money and give it to an animal shelter in my name. I want there to be laughter and relief for me, because I'll not be hurt anymore and I'll be loving that, lemme tell ya. Laugh, tell stories on my ass, Lord knows I've done enough bizarre shit in my life to keep 100 people blabbing forever about funny stuff, so do it.
I also want somebody to pin a button on me that says "Who farted?" Okay? Somebody make sure this happens for me, please. Oooh, and don't forget The Beatles. At least "The Ballad of John and Yoko (Oh No)". That song kicks ass, too and it IS my funeral, Mad Wm., so quitcher gaggin'. Unless it's on a shot of Jack Daniel's ya got walkin' in the door.... *giggling my ass off* Nice topic for the first day of a new year, huh?
Well, nothing like "getting it outta the way"..... Not that I'm planning on croaking, but.... who ever REALLY does?
In fact, going by my life, if I plan for something, it never happens anyway. It's the shit I ignore that's always chewin' on my ass... know what I mean? Aaaaanyway..... So, skipping the fact that I was watching a (taped) Lifetime movie called "Only Way Out" with John Ritter and Henry Winkler (as a psychotic prick) when it became midnight, what do I wanna see first in 2005? The Birdcage? Daria? The Stand? The Green Mile? Weekend at Bernie's? Porky's, maybe?
Hmmmmm..... Oooh... it's gotta be "Up in Smoke", even though Tiger just got me to show that the other day....
Yeah.
The 7 year old loooooves that movie. He wants to see that, eat sloppy joe's and get me to make tollhouse cookies every time he's here... lol. Lil shit... *giggling* He's right, though.... Cheech and Chong are the shit, man.... Yeah, Pink Floyd and Cheech and Chong. Wonder what that, coupled with my hacking cough, says about me?
Hmmmm.... I wonder.
*falls outta chair laughing* (a minute or two later)
*shoves tape into TV* And, there's Cheech, pissin' in the clothes hamper..... lmao.... Up in smoke
Thats where my money goes
In my lungs
But never up my nose*
When troubled times
Begin to bother me
I take a toke
and all my cares
Go up in smoke
(*Apologies to Mr. Chong. Little creative editing, there...) And... All my friends know the lowrider.
The low-ride-r is a little higher
low-rid-er, drives a little slower
low-rid-er is a little colder
low-rid-er knows every street yeah
low-rid-er doesnt wanna meet yeah
low-rid-er dont use no gas yeah
low-rid-er dont drive to fast
take a little trip take a little trip take a little trip to see
take a little trip take a little trip take a little trip with me These two are nuts. Anybody know if (poor) Tommy is still locked up?
That was (and may still be) so stupid... locking him up NOW, for THAT.
I can see how this would be such a priority, seeing as how all the rest of "crime" is soooo under control. *rolls eyes... nearly outta head*
Honestly.
Locking him up is akin to muzzling a toothless Pitbull.
As in: What's the fuckin' POINT?
Ya know? *about an hour later* Fer piss sake.... I got all into IMDb, reading about the cast of "Up in Smoke". The movie, however, ended a little bit ago and I've now got "Lonesome Dove". Saw it mentioned over at GR, so here I am watching it... Lord, this is the best Western ever.... Peace
Comments
1
First of all - HAPPY NEW YEAR! 
Second - love your funeral ideas. I knew a guy that died about a year ago, and in his casket he was dressed in jeans and a harley t-shirt. He had a pack of smokes tucked under one hand, and some other sentimental trinkets surrounding him as well. His harley jacket hung on the corner of the casket. His wife had the funeral home playing all his favorite tunes during the viewing (Skynard, Floyd, etc.) and practically everyone there was in jeans and t-shirts and leather jackets. I know he was looking down from heaven at all of us, high as a kite and laughin at all of us. It's the kind of guy he was. At one point, his wife and I were having a smoke outside and I said to her "See, I knew something was wrong with him when I leaned over to say good-bye to him (in his casket) and he didn't try to grab my tits." His wife laughed so hard she almost peed her pants. One of the best funerals I've been to in my life, and I've seen many.
I hate the idea of you dyin' cuz you rock, but if you have to go, I hope you get to go the way you want and have exactly the kind of funeral you've "planned."
Second - love your funeral ideas. I knew a guy that died about a year ago, and in his casket he was dressed in jeans and a harley t-shirt. He had a pack of smokes tucked under one hand, and some other sentimental trinkets surrounding him as well. His harley jacket hung on the corner of the casket. His wife had the funeral home playing all his favorite tunes during the viewing (Skynard, Floyd, etc.) and practically everyone there was in jeans and t-shirts and leather jackets. I know he was looking down from heaven at all of us, high as a kite and laughin at all of us. It's the kind of guy he was. At one point, his wife and I were having a smoke outside and I said to her "See, I knew something was wrong with him when I leaned over to say good-bye to him (in his casket) and he didn't try to grab my tits." His wife laughed so hard she almost peed her pants. One of the best funerals I've been to in my life, and I've seen many.
I hate the idea of you dyin' cuz you rock, but if you have to go, I hope you get to go the way you want and have exactly the kind of funeral you've "planned."
Posted by: AmyVegas at January 04, 2005 02:49 PM (iS3EV)
Processing 0.0, elapsed 0.0038 seconds.
18 queries taking 0.003 seconds, 9 records returned.
Page size 11 kb.
Powered by Minx 0.8 beta.