Monday, April 02, 2007

Monday, Monday You're a Big Fat Meanie

Oh man, I'm so depressed. I don't know why. Because it's Monday? Probably because it's Monday. "Monday morning you sure look fine, Tuesday I got travelin' on my mind." It just so happens that Monday has more songs about it than any other day of the week, and it does because it's the crappiest.

I would say shittiest, but I'm trying to cut back. Stoker was recording me the other night, singing this song we wrote together (I suck, as we both know), and I messed up and said, "shit," and Stoker kept playing me saying it over and over again in my headphones. It sounded like . . . shit. It was terrible. I sound terrible when I swear (AND when I sing). So, I've decided it's OK to write swear words, but not to say them anymore.

By the way, about that thing I said up there, the thing about Monday having more songs written about it than any other day of the week? I made that up. It's not a fact. I'm sure I could research it and everything and come up with some statistics showing that it is fact*, but who has the energy to do that? This keyboard kind of sticks and my fingers get real tired from typing.

"Monday monday, can't trust that day, monday monday, sometimes it just turns out that way."

I prefer "California Dreaming," if you now what I mean. Mondays are typically tough for me because I can't sleep Sunday night. Who knows why. Probably because on Saturday I sleep in an hour later than usual, on Sunday I often take a nap, and the whole weekend I eat like crap. I don't eat crap, but if crap could eat, it would probably eat the kind of stuff I eat on weekends, like Zingers, more cheese than is necessary, and lots of Dr. Pepper (I've stopped drinking it during the week). I'm sure all those things in combination disrupt the bio-rhythms or circadian rhythms or whatever term you prefer. Maybe if I got a body suit of health magnets or something. Feng shui. Something alternative, because I'm really into that . . . whole thing.

And to close, a little shout out to my hero Stoker, who bought me a mountain bike on Friday. Yeehaw, Stoker! Let's ride**!

*"Faith is a fact . . . . Ha ha. I almost said faith is a fact. Faith's not a fact . . . . . I'm going to prison because you don't know what a blooper real is?!!!" George Bluth Sr.
** Bikes.

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