olivia

British British British!
They’re bad people.
Who like to eat your blood.
They don’t have computers.
Only band leaders.
They like music.
They listen to the leaves.
British British British,
Talking about the British.
The British you know!

They say they’re good
But they don’t really know.
They are mad.
Mad mad mad mad.

- A.P.

Things I want for myself:

a healthy body,
a clear mind,
an open heart;

and above all: the freedom to achieve these things,
and to make mistakes along the way.

Funny review of Escape:

'The album begins with "Don't Stop Believin,' " a song that just may have magical properties within its opening piano signature. Seriously, lock yourself in a room right now and listen to that keyboard part 35 times in a row. Sick of it yet? If you said yes, then you're a filthy liar.

...Listening to the song "Escape" is the equivalent of getting a personal two-hour life-coaching session by Tony Robbins and then smoking PCP. Each time "Escape" finishes, I am completely convinced that I can dunk a basketball, break a 2-by-4 in half with my bare hands and eat 25 hot dogs in a minute.'

Fantastic Journey, Peter Hartlaub, San Francisco Chronicle, April 24, 2006

And this, I just thought was kinda charming. :)

"On a totally unrelated note, I find myself listening to a lot of classic rock lately. It's funny. I used to be on the exact opposite end of the spectrum. If it was new or, at least, anti-social, I listened to it. After being in a band, the magic kind-of drained from the top hat, so to speak. The band ended years ago and I took a hiatus from music in general. Slowly, I dipped my foot back in the music pool. Finally, after I'd worked up enough courage to dunk my head under, I swam to a part of the pool I'd seen, but never explored. And Steve Perry welcomed me with a high note. I warned him the water was cold.

On the drive home from work, instead of listening to my old punk tapes, I now blast George Thoroughgood or Foreigner or Queen. Just to make the transition complete, I even roll down my window and thump my hand on the roof of my car as I go. I chalk up my new fascination with the genre to the fact that it existed before I learned how to make my own music. You see, after that happened I could hear a song on the radio and dissect it—I heard the effect put on the lead guitar track and knew it was done to thicken the bridge. I could see the musicians in the studio, standing next to their amps with disheveled hair and a half-empty Big Gulp on a nearby stool and knew the band's meaty sound would never be reproduced live unless they hired another guitarist. I knew the raucous time the vocalist seemed to be having was the result of multiple attempts, not actual spontaneity.

For some reason, however, music made before I learned the tricks of the trade still holds the same rebellious energy I used to feel in all music, even if it took the lead vocalist the same number of attempts to nail the angst. When The Hives blast into a song, I picture them holding a meeting to talk about it later. When KISS blasts into a song, I picture them smashing empty bottles of Jack Daniels over their heads afterwards. And, really, isn't that what rock is about?"

"One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer," The Factory Floor, 07/23/2004

celebrity lookalikes

( large image )

http://heroes.nbc.com/

I'm reserving judgement on this one.
Looks cool, though.

The tree is sad. He tried drinking, he tried dancing, he tried getting rain; but he was still sad.

He's all grow up. The seed wants to be small.

I read his leaf and it says, "Dear seed, I have come to be sad, and my worst friend is seed."

in the highdark sky there are stars
the moon
the moon is very shiny like the stars

THERE IS AN IMPALA PARKED OUTSIDE MY HOME OMG AND SHE NEEDS A PAINT JOB AND SHE IS BEAUTIFUL

pretty interesting..

http://kevan.org/johari?name=Olivia Hudson

My new #1 at findyourspot is Cedar City, UT.

Not funny.

Some of its more palatable suggestions:

Kalispell, Montana
Sheridan, Wyoming
San Marcos, Texas