BLEH. I got plenty of praise, but I KNOW the mistakes I made. Turns out it pays to practice drumming and practice singing. Because when you don't, you sound like shit!
And I don't know what to do. Because people praise you, not just out of politeness, because they aren't people you know. But they aren't necessarily educated on the topic either. The only feedback I valued was lu_doll's, because she knows what she's talking about.
And then she gets up and sings and blows the world away.
Oh yeah, SOMEONE SHOT AT MY CAR LAST NIGHT.
I'm driving home at 4am (as you do) and CRACK! Obvious first words "what the fuck?!". I pull over (and had I known it was a BULLET I totally wouldn't have gotten out of the car!) to check if I had a flat tyre or less one wheel or if some piece of my car had fallen off somehow. Nothing. I get home and go to sleep. Then I get a text message from Todd this afternoon asking if I'll drive us in to Molly Malones to jam tonight and I said yes, but that I'd have to check what went on with my car. So I look around... There's a big dent and like residue in the dent. To be fair, it was only a pellet gun attack, but it was centimeters from the window, and had it hit that, wasn't too far from where my head was. Fuckers could've fucking killed me. Mother fucking fuckers.
And I don't know what to do. Because people praise you, not just out of politeness, because they aren't people you know. But they aren't necessarily educated on the topic either. The only feedback I valued was lu_doll's, because she knows what she's talking about.
And then she gets up and sings and blows the world away.
Oh yeah, SOMEONE SHOT AT MY CAR LAST NIGHT.
I'm driving home at 4am (as you do) and CRACK! Obvious first words "what the fuck?!". I pull over (and had I known it was a BULLET I totally wouldn't have gotten out of the car!) to check if I had a flat tyre or less one wheel or if some piece of my car had fallen off somehow. Nothing. I get home and go to sleep. Then I get a text message from Todd this afternoon asking if I'll drive us in to Molly Malones to jam tonight and I said yes, but that I'd have to check what went on with my car. So I look around... There's a big dent and like residue in the dent. To be fair, it was only a pellet gun attack, but it was centimeters from the window, and had it hit that, wasn't too far from where my head was. Fuckers could've fucking killed me. Mother fucking fuckers.
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^I need to note that the Coke (once again, cola) is imported from Lebanon, hence the different water.
Damn your soul and your Tool tickets, my presale things are still floating around in space somewhere