the great thing about being into guided by voices/bob pollard is that no matter how deep you go THERE IS ALWAYS MORE
The lego block alarm clock I got ~15 years ago just went off. Made me think of when an ex was convinced it was some sort of camera and I was recording us in bed. I get the paranoia, but, I mean, some of us can't wake up to a phone.
If there is one thing I have learned over the past 40ish years it is that I am a sucker for the sound of crashing guitars.
I know it is beside the point but it doesn't even look like JFK, looks like generic white guy with the same haircut.
The whiplash of it being 65 and breezy in the Bay Area and coming back to a putrid and humid 90 in the midwest is making me rethink all the decisions of my life.
but only packing like three shirts and one spare pair of jeans.
The male urge to pack enough underwear to assume I am going to shit my pants twice a day while I am away.
I guess it's funny since it is not the first time.
Moving around cross-country travel plans and then being told last minute "whoops, sorry, I forgot" is such a dehumanizing moment.