Articles and the sort

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=125811666
http://www.viceland.com/int/v14n10/htdocs/land_of_juggalos.php
Oh yeah, and i got home at 7PM today.
Fun traffic round asheville eh?

Poor Boy Can't Dance

I couldn't find any lyrics online for this song, so i figured i would transcribe them then go to bed.
here's a mp3 link for anyone interested.
http://loudfeed.s3.amazonaws.com/assets/20212/01_The_Poor_Boy_Can_t_Dance.mp3


Well i don't know what to say,
to the prettiest bridesmaid
And it's easy for some,
but you got stunned and dumb; and you know how it is.
when a man gets down, he want no love from a hole in the ground.
But im sick of the wait, and im sick of the fear, and it ends right here.

Things were bad for me, i came across the sea,
never knowing just what I'd do.
I've got your old man doused at the public house - and he took me on his crew.
And so i worked my way, showed up everyday, and i was like a only son.
Oh i was a lonely one.

And you know i do, whenever i see you, i try to avert my eyes.
but you caught my gaze as the glasses raised, and we toasted the groom and bride.
and though you're in the sight of every man tonight i keep saying it to myself:
"if the whiskey's strong and the band plays on i can do no wrong".

So dance with me, won't you dance with me, little Katie don't you turn me down.
I've been in a rut, but i could get the guts, if i could make it through one more round.
And when the music stops, a little Goldilocks, in my heart ya can't confide.
Hand in hand in the English countryside.

I had a girl back home, she left me all alone, said i was born with two left feet.
And that's the truth of it, you know i must admit i can barely walk down the street.
But if it takes one more to get me on the floor, well let me see what i can do.
Oh to spend some time with you.

So dance with me, won't you dance with me, little Katie don't you turn me down.
I've been in a rut, but i could get the guts, if i could make it through one more round.
And when the music stops, a little Goldilocks, in my heart can't confide.
Arm in arm in the English countryside.

And now we're face to face, with my hands around your waist.
And out here where we meet, there's no floor beneath my feet.
You never had your fun with an American, but i can tell you that it's alright.
Oh Katie you're on my mind.

So dance with me, won't you dance with me, little Katie don't you turn me down.
I've been in a rut, but i could get the guts, if i could make it through one more round.
And when the music stops, a little Goldilocks, in my heart can't confide.
lay you down in the English countryside.
lay you down in the English countryside.

Travelin blog, part 1

I sit in seat 33 D, on the 6:30 flight from Atlanta to Hartford.
As the flight attendant runs through the safety checks, the turbine engine whirrs to life, building up steam over the course of a minute.
Another charge builds up somewhere behind my head, and the noise slowly builds to a point of volume superseding anything one would expect from a modern airplane, like a intro to a pendulum album. I half expect the drums to kick in, but instead i receive acceleration.
The runway runs parallel to a highway, providing a rough gauge of the aircraft's speed.
50, 60, 70, fast, faster.
The lights that sequin the runway become lines of light, stripes of yellow, red and blue.
The wings achieve lift, and the plane is groggily lifted into the air, defying all logical thought in it's flight. I would take time to consider how ridiculous such a machine actually working is, however i am far to busy staring out a small window.
A massive sign off roughly a hundred feet reads " F L Y D E L T A" a announcement i am oddly proud of, as i am flying delta right now. Perhaps the sign should take it's own advice and be more like me.
Each letter looks to be stories tall, and i wonder how much electricity it uses.
The airplane, uncaring for such musings, continues to climb, and soon we are quite evidently climbing. The ground below us turns first into a diorama of a town, then simply shapes. Roads become veins, the trees become space, and each point of light a star in a suburban solar system, all of them twinkling as they pass behind trees and other debris. Their combined luminescence forms a golden glow that blankets the entire planet, clearly exposing the skyline in the pitch black sight, and giving a clue to the overall size and curvature of the planet.
The plane circles back by the airport as if it is reminiscing about it's time there,
and the reds and blues of the flashing runway lights form a cacophony of color against the gold and black of the surrounding landscape.
The once mighty "fly delta" is little more than a strip of red now, that could be compared to a particularly wide piece of hair at this perspective.
All of this gives me plenty to think about on the rest of the plane ride, though i often find my thoughts coming back to how ineffective a individual turning off a light bulb is compared to this tsunami of energy.

Housecleaning

I deleted most of the old posts, as they are terrible, bad, and possibly even terribad.
So, i deleted something off my computer and painted a picture, highly productive day.
It's so funny it's funny.

Next week

Im hopefully going to get back up to Connecticut for a week, and i am rather looking forward to it.
It's pretty sad that how much i am really, and it makes me wonder how someone managed to move me away.
I don't really remember much of the planning of the mood, probably because i had very little to do with actually formulating it.
Le sigh.
On the plus sound i found a hat look at that.