Some days I spend several hours on the sofa, neither awake nor asleep, but mostly motionless, and in the night I am restless. I used to be a night person, suppose I still would be if I didn’t have a predetermined schedule.
Today I did some painting on my house, not knowing what the hell I was doing, in front of some older neighbors who know about that kind of thing and could probably instantly spot every mistake I made. And now I have been summoned before the Council of Millennials to explain why I just ignored them instead of demanding a safe space.
I really must finish reading that one. I got halfway through it years ago but found it too boring, particularly his ideas on love. I heard the story from a NA source but it happens very often that different peoples have the same legends or copy each other's myths. For example, almost every culture on the nothern hemisphere has a legend about a great flood.
no, all these legends come from coastal tsunamis - You know the Mongols have only imported such legends
Not nowadays, I'm afraid. We have the third drought year in a row and the ground water levels have sunk dangerousely low. If this continues, next year water will have to be rationed. I recall a year in the 60s where it was forbidden to wash cars and to water gardens. Much to our regret, washing children was still permitted...
I only really started paying attention to and comprehending song lyrics recently. Even songs I've been intimately familiar with and have loved for decades. I'm far more interested in the instrumentation. Voice has always just been another instrument to me and I appreciated its sounds rather than its message. Given, I've only recently learned of the issues between David Gilmore and Roger Waters on a very surface level, but I never realized what a grudge album Pink Floyd's The Division Bell is! I love the music, but I'm having a more difficult time enjoying it now that I'm picking up on the meaning in its lyrics.
To me lyrics in a song only matter if they're either really good or really bad. Anything in between's all the same. Some really good lyrics have poetic value or other aesthetic addition to the melody, some add a lot of emotional context to the song. And on the negative end, some excessively lewd or misogynistic lyrics make a song difficult to listen to. An issue I have with some rap even when it otherwise sounds good.
Four. Four is the correct number of slices on a bacon butty, and each slice should have thick blob of melted cheddar grilled on top.
frankly, the first thought upon looking up 'bacon butty' was "and that's supposed to be edible?". But then, every country has their special sorts of favourite foods. Most of my countrymen enjoy a dish of lung stewed in vinegar I have a suspicion that many medicines only work because they taste so horrid that the organism is so afraid of a second dose that it simply doesn't dare getting sick again.
I love duck blood soup. It's a Polish recipe (Did I fail to mention that I was of Polish origin?). Anyway, I rarely get the opportunity of tasting the genuine duck blood soup but when I do I wouldn't miss it for the world!
Saw a commercial today for a lawyer where the tagline was "Better Phone Stone". So not only did somebody copy Breaking Bad, they intentionally compared themselves to a corrupt lawyer who launders drug money.
Is there anything more ironic in the entire history of modern music as the fact that the band who in 5 years wrote the widely celebrated songs "Get Back", "Come Together", "We Can Work it Out", & "I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends" couldn't get back, come together, work it out, or get by with a little help from their friends? I think that's why that band break up stung so much. They should've been the last guys for that, right? If anybody should've had a strong enough love, it should've been them. Hell, in 69, they're on that rooftop, smiling & jamming out with each other, but by then it was already on its way out. WTF went wrong with their heads? Jesus. All you need is love
Such an advertizing tactics can badly backfire: Years ago there was an anti-smoking campaign and our GP hung up a poster in his waiting room, proclaiming "a life without smoke is possible" Since his name is Smoke, he had to endure a lot of leg pulling by his patients.