living in love, music, tattoos, rpgs, vinyl, faith, photography, dvds, sandwiches, rent, chocolate soy milk, string cheese, dank wars, disneyland, diet soda, sleeping, adventure
ADMIT IT! Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance and vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs, you know nothing ABOUT art or sex that you couldn't read in any trendy new york underground fashion magazine...Proto-typical non-conformist. You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store gastapo. You adhere to a set of standards and tastes that appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges-BULLSHIT-giving your thumbs up and thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art. Go analog baby, you're so post-modern. You're diving face forward into an antiquated past, it's disgusting! It's offensive! Don't stick your nose up at me! Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself?You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends, pontificating to each other, forever competing for that one moment of self aggrandizing glory in which you hog the intellectual spotlight, holding dominion over the entire SHALLOW....POINTLESS...conversation. Oh we're not worthy.When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people you chuckle to yourself, patting yourself on the back as you scoff. It's the same superority complex shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell, makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma you spend every moment of your waking life BITCHING about! Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? You're free to whine. It will not get you far. I do just fine, my car and my guitar. I'm proud of my life and the things that I have done, proud of myself and the loner I've become.Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved. I spend hours in front of the mirror making my hair elegantly disheveled. I worry about how this album will sell because I believe it will determine the amount of SEX I will have in the future. I self-medicate with drugs and alcohol to help treat my extreme social anxiety problem. You are a FAKER! You are a FRAUD! You're living a LIE! You don't impress me! You don't intimidate me! ADMIT IT! Why don't you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank! I'm proud of my life and the things that I have done, proud of myself and the loner i've become. You're free to whine. It will not get you far. I do just fine, my car and my guitar, and I am done with this. I wanna taste the breeze of every great city, my car and my guitar. You're urgently unfulfilled, when I'm dead I'll rest.
the beatles-say anything-atdi-sigur ros-gsybe!-silver mt. zion-refused-far-onelinedrawing-grouch-swollen members-the impossibles-mars volta-counterfit-slug-atmosphere-cursive-the cure-j5-small brown bike-deathcab-jimmy-smoking popes-casket lottery-murder city devils-glassJAw-brazil-saves the day-the good life-tribe called quest-blood brothers-slowreader-since by man-sunny day real estate-cave in-minus the bear-sharks keep moving-Run DMC-starflyer 59-iron and wine-the get up kids-moneen-N.W.A.-underoath-jets to brazil-journey-saosin-capulet-kiss-milemarker-converge-child ren of bodom-the postal service-further seems forever-wu tang-the clash-my chemical romance-mike jones-murder by death-hot rod circuit-boys night out-lucero-the killers-the alkaline trio-jawbox-animal hospital-the shape-the fullblast-farewell to twilight-mum
Tim Burton and John Hughes movies, Donnie Darko, The Goonies, Memento, All LOTR/Star Wars/Harry Potter, All Kevin smith, Death to Smoochy, Equilibrium, Fight Club, Rocky Horror, The Sandlot, Vanilla Sky, Love Actually, Dazed and Confused, Cube Trilogy
scrubs, the new detectives, pyramids mummies and tombs, wonder showzen, aqua teen, COPS, upright citizens brigade, ghost hunters, laguna beach, undergrads, RENO 911, friends
Lord of the Rings(and all other Tolkien), Courtship of Princess Leia, Youth in Revolt
"ADMIT IT! Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance and vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs, you know NOTHING about art or sex that you couldn't read in any trendy new york underground fashion magazine...Proto-typical non-conformist. You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store gastapo. You adhere to a set of standards and tastes that appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges-BULLSHIT-giving your thumbs up and thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art. Go analog baby, you're so post-modern. You're diving face forward into an antiquated past, it's disgusting! It's offensive! Don't stick your nose up at me! What do you have to say for yourself?You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends, pontificating to each other, forever competing for that one moment of self aggrandizing glory in which you hog the intellectual spotlight, holding dominion over the entire SHALLOW....POINTLESS...conversation. 'Oh we're not worthy'When you walk by a group of quote-unquote 'normal people' you chuckle to yourself, patting yourself on the back as you scoff. It's the same superority complex shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell. And it makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma you spend every moment of your waking life BITCHING about!What do you have to say for yourself? Cause I'm proud of my life and the things that i have done. I'm proud of myself and the loner i've become. You're free to whine. It will not get you far. I do just fine, my car and my guitar.Well let me tell you this; I am shamelessly self-involved. I spend hours in front of the mirror making my hair elegantly disheveled. I worry about how this album will sell because I believe it will determine the amount of SEX I will have in the future. I self-medicate with drugs and alcohol to help treat my extreme social anxieties. You are a FAKER! You are a FRAUD! You're living a LIE! You don't impress me! You don't intimidate me! ADMIT IT! Why don't you bow down, get on the ground, walk this plank!And I am done with this. I wanna taste the breeze of every great city, my car and my guitar. You're urgently unfulfilled. When I'm dead I'll rest.."-m.b. (s.a.)