Before we go any further let me say that I think "Tongue-Tied and Twisted" is a very good title for a blog (not just a post) so if you are starting a blog and need a title feel free to use that. Now, on to the matter at hand. As you may or may not know, I could do a "music post" every day and be quite satisfied. But (I have been told) some people find them boring so I hold myself back. Today I did not intend to do a music post but in line (here if I were trying to sound like an easterner I might say "on line," but I'm not) at Walmart (here if I were trying to sound like a southerner I might say "Piggily Wiggily," but I'm not--look: I is what I is and that is only slightly ashamed to shop at corporate tycoon but low-priced Walmart) I had a momentary lapse of reason. That is, I bought the Pink Floyd CD I've been wanting and hoping that--oh I don't know--Fattooth--might give me.
Dude, Pink Floyd rocks. So after I bought the CD I hatched a plan. I decided it would be super awesome to listen to my new CD while going through the car wash. Here it seems important to insert that I don't do drugs and have never done drugs (ever). What the freakazoid was I thinking? Here it seems important to insert that it was super awesome listening to my new CD in the car wash.
Granted, there are a lot of really long boring Pink Floyd songs. But there are many more great cool ones. There are so many fun things to consider with Pink Floyd. There's the whole Syd Barrett/Roger Waters/David Gilmour discussion and the more practical question of how itchy it would be for Bob Geldof to grow his eye brows back out. Alas, this is where it gets boring for people who don't dig it. Comment at will. But I will say the ability of a boy with webbed feet to play the the sax solo on "Terminal Frost" is what won me over and led me to break the first cardinal rule of dating, which is "No Webbed Feet."
So's anyway, as I was listening to "The Dogs of War" (which would be an awesome campaign song for George Bush, by the way--har har. If only he were Jed Bartlett I could be more loyal) and in my foot-stomping, steering wheel thumping, "bam ba bow ba bow" singing glory I had a startling realization and it was this: I like reading teenage boys blogs because, in many ways, I am a teenage boy. My last saving feminine grace was that instead of Red Bull I was drinking a Diet Coke with lime. Wa-Shoo!
When I ejected the CD I heard on the radio. . . The Cars! Don't get me started on them. I won their tape on the radio when I was little. Where are you, Cars? I guess once you marry Paulina Porizkova you don't really have to try anymore. Too bad. Well, there's really no sensation to compare with this suspended animation-a state of bliss. It's weird but I can't keep my mind from the circling sky. Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I. (Just to reiterate, I don't do drugs.)