Is there much demand for a Bob Dyan and The Band reunion? Is such a thing even possible? I'm sure many members are anicent and dead. I ask this because I'm listening the the reprise of Baby Let Me Follow You Down from The Last Waltz.
Nothing is better than that feeling of music as something propulsive, explosive and you're tapped into all of it. It makes you do air-everything, including cowbell. Especially cowbell. It's the odd instruments, the wind instruments, the steel drums. If you rock air-saxaphone, you know this song is good with God. Springsteen fans know what I'm talking about.
Baby Let Me Follow You Down, especially Live, obliterates everything else around it. It's an inescapable feeling that rips you right out of yourself. You don't care how stupid you look because either everyone is fucking rocking like a hero or just don't count. Forget them, they're not there. Just you and your wicked chops.
Maybe you'll even be dressed as a badadss French sheriff or something.
I'll Buy You A Diamond Ring
I'll Buy You A Wedding Gown
Well I'd Do Anything In This God Almighty World
If You Just Let Me Follow You Down
I worked a closing shift tonight, and another tomorrow. And then an opening shift the next day. Then work on Saturday. And I'll have to do some major fill in work at the internet placery Thursday and Friday. And I have to clean to hell out of my awful, rotten slum house.
It already feels like a week has gone by already. What an awful life I lead. I'll never see the beach again. Of course, I hate the beach, but it's the principle of the thing dammit. I work so much to support a very meager social and ideally lazy life style.
I guess I'll head back to college come Fall, but for journalism. Why? What the fuck I'm a terrible writer. I don't have a spark or splitch of creativity and forget humor. Forget it.
I want a cute little indie wife and live my cute indie life.
Those quiet indie couples. Cute and well dressed in navy blue sweaters and peacoats. What the fuck are they talking about? Who cares. I'll never even comprehend. Probably sensible outrage over something. They have nice breakfasts in sunlit cafes, oblivious to you or your greasy hash browns, you unsophisticated swine. You don't have an indie wife, suck ass.
This is easily the best movie ever.
And that's what's up.
Nothing is better than that feeling of music as something propulsive, explosive and you're tapped into all of it. It makes you do air-everything, including cowbell. Especially cowbell. It's the odd instruments, the wind instruments, the steel drums. If you rock air-saxaphone, you know this song is good with God. Springsteen fans know what I'm talking about.
Baby Let Me Follow You Down, especially Live, obliterates everything else around it. It's an inescapable feeling that rips you right out of yourself. You don't care how stupid you look because either everyone is fucking rocking like a hero or just don't count. Forget them, they're not there. Just you and your wicked chops.
Maybe you'll even be dressed as a badadss French sheriff or something.
I'll Buy You A Diamond Ring
I'll Buy You A Wedding Gown
Well I'd Do Anything In This God Almighty World
If You Just Let Me Follow You Down
I worked a closing shift tonight, and another tomorrow. And then an opening shift the next day. Then work on Saturday. And I'll have to do some major fill in work at the internet placery Thursday and Friday. And I have to clean to hell out of my awful, rotten slum house.
It already feels like a week has gone by already. What an awful life I lead. I'll never see the beach again. Of course, I hate the beach, but it's the principle of the thing dammit. I work so much to support a very meager social and ideally lazy life style.
I guess I'll head back to college come Fall, but for journalism. Why? What the fuck I'm a terrible writer. I don't have a spark or splitch of creativity and forget humor. Forget it.
I want a cute little indie wife and live my cute indie life.
Those quiet indie couples. Cute and well dressed in navy blue sweaters and peacoats. What the fuck are they talking about? Who cares. I'll never even comprehend. Probably sensible outrage over something. They have nice breakfasts in sunlit cafes, oblivious to you or your greasy hash browns, you unsophisticated swine. You don't have an indie wife, suck ass.
This is easily the best movie ever.
And that's what's up.
VIEW 25 of 176 COMMENTS
e.g.
Rent is $1000
There are two people on the lease, myself and my friend.
Can we draw up a contract with everyone else who lives in the house saying you owe us X amount X days before our rent is due, and have it be enforcible?
I know that it can't hurt to have one, that everyone signs, but I just don't know if it would hold up, say if the landlord were to take us to court