When 2 become 1

John Mayer's guitar playing is almost identical to Stevie Ray Vaughan! While I feel that plagiarism is unethical and unprofessional, especially when John Mayer is using it to make that much money(and getting all those chicks). I guess it's nice to hear the SRV sound once again.

R.I.P. Stevie

My love poem for you <3

A ring is round,
it goes on forever.
So are you,
lose some weight bitch!

The metal in Metallica

I can't say I'm a huge Metallica, but I will not deny the fact that they are genius(Ride the Lightning, Cliff 'Em All, Master of Puppets). We also know that they have been trying to keep up with the times by dropping their key and as a result, failed terribly(that rhymed). Saint Anger will be my proof, and the Saints in heaven know that it sucks too.

So here comes the new album, Lars said it will be awesome, I was hoping for that too. Then the songs started streaming online. The instruments are fine and up to standard(of being a fucking brilliant album of pure metal). Why only fine? Simply because I have really high expectations of them(They are Metallica!). Kirk and gang put up one heck of a performance, but James' vocals disappointed. He brought up his overall key by one full key. So you get a nicer sharper growl, which can be found in their first few albums, but he sounds jaded, slower, and boring at times. Heh, he's old I guess. It reminds me of the good old days, but not quite.

The Unforgiven III. Are you kidding me? Three songs about forgiveness. Coupled with The Day That Never Comes(sounds a lot like One), which makes me question about the metal in Metallica. Don't get me wrong, they are great songs, but as one of the "Big Four" of thrash metal, aren't you supposed to make music that's thrash? I have not heard the full album yet, but two ballads, come on you guys aren't Softrocklica!

I hope I have passed judgement too early and the album will be fantabby.

Meals and Pocket Calculators

Well, it's true, girls do take out their pocket calculators after meals to calculate precisely how much each of them are supposed to pay, right down to the cents. It's fascinating how trivial amounts of money get to them.

So it's true

Ha, so she's got a crush on that good looking friend of hers, and he shares the same feelings. What was I thinking to think that plain old three chord(pretty gnarly ones) me actually stood a chance. I saw it coming, and still stepped past the yellow line. Fuck you hormones, of all the pretty girls that walk by every day, you always choose the ones that are too much for me. It's always easier to blame someone/something else rather than myself.

I haven't been this disappointed(heartbroken's a really strong word) since 2005. I guess the next few days/weeks will be a time of self reflection. Am I really like Todd? Or am I just as screwed up as I fear I am?

Hmm this song is as close as it gets to how I'm feeling.

爱到才知痛:
为着你今仔日欲来找我 从早上等到深夜
阮总是相信你会甲阮来作伴 犹原无影无迹
我不敢想若无你甘会生活 按怎渡我的生命
寒风也冷袂过你对我的心肝 那堪糟蹋着我

爱到你心惊惊 想到你心痛痛 但是我无法度将感情收煞
看到你爱别人就亲像你爱我 按怎拢袂心痛
爱到你心惊惊 想到你心痛痛 我己经无资格对你讲条件
等别人对待你就亲像你对我 爱到才知影痛




But I do like you...

The future's bleak

I foresee a day when women can't cook anything other than pastry and dessert.

Post-apocalyptic society after most of the world's population is dead due to an unknown disease, and all we eat is cookies, muffins and cheesecakes.









Damn it I've become Todd.

I'm in hottie heaven. This picture... Whoa... *Drools*

Kristin Cavallari encompasses several key features of a really hot chick(in my book at least) in ascending order:

1. Nice flowy hair...
2. Nice ass and legs
3. A rack(looks good in other pictures, but her rack doesn't look so great in here, thus the low rank)
4. She looks great in a tank top
5. She loves bongo(I love the bass and she likes the jeans but I'll keep lying to myself to stay happy)
6. Awesome pouty lip smile
7. Awesome smile
8. She's really beautiful, YAY!

That's all I can think of for now. I had a couple more reasons some time back. But yeah.

I know, I'm pathetic. Not proud, not proud at all. BAH!

Because I am not a robot

It's true, being upset doesn't make me sing any better. Damn you dude from X Japan... Or maybe it's because I'm singing in my kiln of a room because I'm upset over a girl, and Toshi was singing about his dead guitarist in his semi-legendary performance at Hide's funeral. (I'm not a X Japan fan, but Toshi's voice sounds like aural butter)

My rockstar dreams took another hit. This should be my 5th rejection/break up.
I grudgingly agreed to leave my ska band because N wanted to play some punk rock and my hillbilly mind told me that I should strictly be playing reggae and ska only.

Not related to my departure from the ska band:It's sad that such a beautiful form of music like ska/jazz/blues gets that little appreciation while every song that Rihanna grunts gets played on air constantly. All the little robots that Timbaland created, they're taking over the world, and turning the Earth into grey-goo.


On a side note, I will up my death age to 37 or 38, instead of 35, just to have 3 years of spending all my worldly wealth getting high, travelling, playing Casanova and trying good food, so that nobody gets any booty once I'm dead, and kicking it my Lord and Savior. My entire intention of dying young is to die a little past my prime years. But looking at my body now, I think I might have past it already.

*Happy Belly says Hi!*... Thank God I can still see my willy, and my toes. But not for long I'd bet. Stupid food and beer.

One last thing, I'm still glad that nobody knows this little journal that I keep. Gives me a chance to look back at how stupid I am whenever I come here. And another last thing, I think I'm posting too regularly.

I'm an awful awful song writer.

You asked me to prepare something special,

So I wonder how’d this fare with you.

Here I go writing this song,

At four thirty,

My birthday morn’.

You are in my dreams when I sleep,

When I’m awake I am your creep.

Radio playing in my head,

Oh you’re the girl I’d love to hate,

I’m kidding (whispered).

Well I’m at your beck and call,

That pretty face, her perfect soul,

Always leave me begging for more,

The one who defied all of nature’s laws

Never caught out in the cold.

Chorus:

Ain’t she something?

Just when I thought God left us all,

She appeared,

Held me close til the fog cleared.

Ain’t she something?

She threatens me with Panic!,

But darlin’ I won’t play that game.

I’d rather take you out for a picnic,

On a sunny afternoon,

Find some silly song to croon.

Please pardon my writing skills,

But these words are merely words,

And she’s so much more.

My rhyming's pretty awful. I got to start reading more books by Dr. Seuss to gather inspiration.

I live in a box,

I look like a fox,

Why are you blue,

Little boy blue.

HA! Who said you can't rhyme blue with blue.

Square Root of Three

Square Root of Three

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun,
as 1.7321
Such is my reality,
a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

- Dave Feinberg

Perfect date:

Dinner, drinks, roofy, her place, gone in the morning.

What more could I ask for?

War is boring. War is sitting around in the hot sun, waiting for something to happen. It's reading the same letter from your girlfriend over and over again...literally hundreds of times; looking for some new and hidden meaning in her words. It's playing card games that you would never even care about back in the world-but suddenly you can't get enough of. It's learning more about your buddies than you ever cared to know before. It's sitting on guard towers freezing in the night air, staring out into darkness with nothing but a radio and some guy who doesn't want to talk, keeping you company. It's going on missions that last three and four days at a time and not sleeping for any of it. It's constantly questioning the rules of engagement and trying to make sense of it. It's a big empty room where nothing ever happens and you only have carbon copies of yourself to talk to. But every now and then, when you least expect it, you get a lifetime of excitement, chaos, terror, horror, and fear crammed into a few minutes. Your adrenaline rises to levels you've never felt and regardless of what god you pray to (even if you don't pray to one at all) you get religion very quickly. Then it's hard core, balls to the wall, utter insanity for just a few moments...it's the sun exploding at the same time that every explosive in the world is detonated....it's a high speed car crash, it's a base jump from the empire state building, it's running from the cops, it's a fist fight, it's being cornered by all the school bullys at one time, it's terrible and and god awful and horrible and it slows time to a crawl...minutes creep by like days and in that minute or two that you're actually fighting, your entire world changes. And then just as quickly as it all started, it stops. Then for a few minutes you're still on edge. But after a bit, it goes away; as much as it can. Then you're back to playing card games with your buddies. And then you start to realize that the guy who you didn't really care for back in the world, is now one hell of a good guy. And he isn't just a guy you work with anymore, he's your friend. He's your brother. Then you read that letter from your girlfriend again...you know, the one where she's telling you that she just feels like it's too difficult to maintain a relationship with you when you're so far away...the one where she goes on about how the two of you have grown apart and although she never meant to meet someone new; there is a new guy and he's just terrific and they're getting a dog together and his parents are crazy about her and unlike you, he has a good and stable job that doesn't send him to the other side of the world; the letter where she tells you how hard her life is because she's hanging on to you and she doesn't even know if you're coming home. And it almost makes you laugh because it's so ******** absurd that you're sleeping on the ground, drinking purified river water that's so hot it scalds your mouth but if you don't drink it you will dehydrate, and that ***** is telling you how hard her life is... And you start to realize that trivial **** like that just doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot anymore. But you still hang on to that letter anyway. And you still read it, time and time again...searching for some new meaning...until the **** hits the fan again.

Read this from a forum, tragic innit?