Thursday, October 14
I'm filling up my amazon.com wishlist right now. It's very, extremely, pointless. But I'm bored. I really don't get who the fuck would actually buy something for someone else whom they have never met before. The only kind of person I could think of who would actually fulfill someone's wishlist is Michael Jackson, or another version of a bored asshole me with loads and loads of money looking to better themselves morally or is just plain bored, like me. Nothing surprising is on the list, just every single Izzy Stradlin CD, Guns n' Roses and Led Zeppelin DVDs, Rolling Stones albums, Led Zeppelin t-shirts, some books, and kick ass boots.

I can never have enough Led Zeppelin t-shirts. Ever.

Last night I couldn't sleep and couldn't watch TV because I saw lights in the hallway, meaning the parents were wandering around doing something, or something I don't want to know, which means they'd see the television set's illumination glowing through the bottom slit of the door. I listened to the second Led Zeppelin box set disc. I am now at a pondering moment in my life which asks, "What is the greatest band of all time, The Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin?"

I'm just not a Beatles person, although I do love them very much. Their songs, I just can't listen to them all the time, every fucking day, like I can with Zeppelin. When people make fun of their earliest stuff, like "She Loves You" or "From Me to You," it pisses me off because I find those songs really cute and pretty damn good. Fuck you I don't care if you think they're shallow pop shit, those were some songs that brought them that huge fanbase [of teenyboppers, but I couldn't care nonetheless, it's still fame].

And look at "Hello, I Love You" by The Doors. Some folks criticize it for the same reason others do with those early Beatles tunes. I still like the fucking song anyway. The thing with today's pop, I don't know, it just really irritates the shit out of me. Or the fact that it is totally manufactured. The early '60s teen idols that the record companies made are just the same and suck just as bad. I guess it's the manufactured or fakeness.

Haha I read a while ago that Izzy Stradlin's first concert was David Cassidy. That's fucking awesome in my book, because how could you not love David Cassidy?

The debate in history class today went well. I didn't have to talk at all. Which means no one erupted their constipated faces at me with constant blows and excuses about patriotism.

I'm starting to like my B days better than my A days. Despite the shitty people in my first two classes, gym is cool because no one gives a fuck about me anyway, so I could just stand there and not do a fucking thing and still get a 90 in the class. And plus I can sit alone on the side and eat my candy. Lunch is better, not so many assholes as there are in A lunch, and that pretty much makes up for more shittiness in literature class. God, who gives a fuck about this? I'm gonna shut up.

I love "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp."

I've been going so boycrazy for the past few weeks. It's not healthy. (More unhealthy than drinking bongwater, which I have no idea who would actually do that.) And I haven't gotten any action at all. Maybe I should go to the mall and in miniscule hopes, try to find that gorgeous Izzy Stradlin lookalike that I saw on the day that the fucking dipshit Ryan Cabrera had to come to town and perform at the mall. He obviously isn't a Ryan Cabrera fan, but just happened to be at the mall that day like me. I know not a single thing about him. But I'm desperate to seek that beautiful ass again one day.

Who's your favorite bass player? I'm at a loss between Duff McKagan, Flea, or John Paul Jones.

Damn, I talk way too much about music. But in all honesty, it's probably the only thing that I live for. The only thing that I ever take interest in. Anything that comes up that is just the least bit relevant to a certain musician or band, I quiver and go crazy in a split second. And whenever I see a vintage music store, my heart just blooms like a 10-inch in diameter orchid that has just received its one of many doses of rainfall every day. Send me to California and I die.

By the way, I am extremely jealous of you people who got to go to that free Velvet Revolver concert down at the Sunset Strip last night. Extremely jealous. My brows are arching in fury just typing this.

I feel as though my life is going nowhere. I live and breath music and hopeless romanticism. And I'm doing nothing to pursue a career in music or a career in anything else at all. I can't play music, I can't write music, I hate journalism, I hate the press, and being a groupie doesn't pay in bills.


Christina N. @ 7:04 PM