Hello again, everyone. I am in a much better mood today despite the fact that I only think I have received 16 more views because I Google-Recommended myself.
Anyway, this is the second follow up to Sex-And-The-City Tangent #1. Now, I feel like a person with intellectual disabilities for posting Madonna Read My Blog, because now, I doubt Madonna's ever even been on Blogger. But, like the Labels say, this is about Metallica.
I'm pretty sure that all of you have heard about the girl who was kidnapped, raped (this part I doubt because I didn't do research on the case because I'm not a psychopath, as hard as it is to believe), & murdered outside the Metallica concert. And, if you haven't, tough, because I currently have nine things open on my computer at the moment, three of which are Word files, & I am not opening anymore, And would like to finish this before my therapist arrives in (oh, fuck) thirty minutes, and she does not know about this blog. Neither does my mother, & she's here. And, because I'd like it to stay that way, I am going to make this brief.
But, the band Metallica decided that because she disappeared from outside their concert, they should offer a $40,000.00 reward for anyone who could find her. When cops discovered her corpse, James Hetfield released a PSA (public service announcement for our foreign readers) asking people for information on the whereabouts of the guy who killed her.
Now, I know that Metallica & Marilyn Manson only share the first letter of the band. But, had this had been at a Marilyn Manson concert, things would be WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY different. Mainly, the lead singer would be filming a PSA that's slightly similar to the PSA Micheal Jackson filmed during the child molestation trial.
Now, just like Sex-and-The-City Tangent #1, I'm just trying to bring up a question That question remains the same:When did music lose that independent "You're not the boss of me" streak
it had almost 20-40 years ago? Is music written by vocal people for one
confused by things like the moral majority? Or, is music written to
please the moral majority?
Showing posts with label Inspired. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspired. Show all posts
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Madonna Read My Blog?!
Okay. Before anyone tries to disagree, I would like to say the following story is hypothetical, realistic fiction. But, either way, I prepared some illustrations to help move this story along.
So, Madonna* was working on her new album and tour. She got tired and bored. So, she decided to find a blog to read. And, she just happened to come across my blog.
Unfortunately, she happened to come across The Aspiegoth blog when I had just finished my first Sex-And-The-City Tangent. That was what she ended up reading. And, much to everyone's surprise, she got to thinking.
Now, Madonna being Madonna, Madonna felt she had to do something. So, she thought about her tour and things she could do to help.
The decision of where the first concert of her MDNA tour complete & over with, Madonna started to decide on how to help Lady Gaga look innocent in the eyes of Indonesia's religious right and make her look like an even worse influence on Indonesian youths.
And, that is why I think Madonna made some of the decisions she's made recently.
*I mean Madonna the singer.
**Although, in hindsight, Madonna seems to be the type of gal that uses the term "pussies". I just used the least offensive term I could think of to use as I am not Madonna and I have to use the social filter or else I'll get banned from the internet or something.
The End
So, Madonna* was working on her new album and tour. She got tired and bored. So, she decided to find a blog to read. And, she just happened to come across my blog.
Unfortunately, she happened to come across The Aspiegoth blog when I had just finished my first Sex-And-The-City Tangent. That was what she ended up reading. And, much to everyone's surprise, she got to thinking.
And, that is why I think Madonna made some of the decisions she's made recently.
*I mean Madonna the singer.
**Although, in hindsight, Madonna seems to be the type of gal that uses the term "pussies". I just used the least offensive term I could think of to use as I am not Madonna and I have to use the social filter or else I'll get banned from the internet or something.
The End
Friday, June 1, 2012
In A Suburban Home: A Story I Read That Inspired Me
Okay. I was wanting to receive the more views on this blog. And, the last post was sort of depressing. So, I wanted to enlighten all of you with a story I read many years ago. It was turned into a book, but, I decided to retell it & I forget the title & author's name. So, here's In A Suburban Home:
Once there was a Middle American town known as Ho-humville. Ho-humville was a quiet town filled with only the most corperate jobs & the most corperate businesses run by the most mundane people. And, these mundane people lived in all the same house painted & built the same size, shape, & color.
One day, a seagull was flying in the neighboring town of Cape Our Lady Of Guadalupe. The seagull flew over a fish market next to the town's dock to the ocean. It hovered down, & picked up a bucket of salmon-pink paint. The store owner & the painter were in a heated argument over whether to paint the store ambrosia or cerulean, so, they didn't notice the bird fly off with the paint. Well, the seagull didn't get very far, I tell you what. Eventually, it got to Ho-humville. And, when it did, its feet were too weak to carry such a big bucket. So, it dropped the bucket of paint. However, it happened to drop the bucket on the roof of fellow pencil pusher Mr. Johnson's roof.
Mr. Johnson was horrified when he first noticed the pink paint on his black shingles & white walls. But, then, he got an idea. He went to the hardware store, found the exact same shade of salmon pink, & headed home. The next day, there was a fuss all around the neighborhood and the whole town. Mr. Johnson was painting his whole house salmon pink!
A lot of people showed up to see what Mr Johnson was doing. The Home Owners Association threatened to evict him unless he changed his house back to the way it was before. The police threatened to arrest him. The local pastor even shook the holy scriptures & threatened that Mr Johnson was condemned to go to hell unless he kept his house the way it was before.
But, Mr Johnson said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
When Mr. Johnson said this, the whole town thought he went crazy. There was one person who wasn't appalled by Mr. Johnson's actions was his next door neighbor on the left, Mr. Smith. He was also a pencil pusher who was fighting boredom. And, he always wanted to see the ocean. So, he went to the hardware store and purchased some blue paint.
The next day, Mr Smith began to paint blue waves onto his house. Mr Johnson had finished painting his house salmon & was painting his shingles orange. The whole town had decided to leave Mr. Johnson alone.But, they didn't leave Mr Smith alone. This time, local children at school were receiving extra credit for writing letters to Mr. Smith to try to convince him to change his house back.
But, Mr. Smith said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
The town thought Mr. Smith had lost his mind. There was one person besides Mr Johnson that understood. And, that was Ms. Jones. She was Mr. Johnson's neighbor on the right. She was also a secretary that always loved spring. So, she went to the hardware store & bought spring green paint.
Mr. Johnson was now re shingling & painting the roof. Mr. Smith was now painting a sea green on his house where there was once white. The town was leaving them alone. But, when they caught wind of what Ms. Jones was doing, they protested. The PTO even formed an angry mob around the door, threatening to press federal charges unless she changed her house back.
Ever persistent, Ms. Jones said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can say or do can keep me from following my dream in a suburban home."
The town assumed she had also lost her mind. So, they left her alone. Mrs. Miller, a retired schoolteacher who lived across the street from Mr. Johnson, was watching closely. She had always loved sunsets, & had always wanted to paint her house like one. She bought the yellow-orange paint. But, due to her advanced age, she hired three high school boys to do it.
Again, the town protested. This time, the local nursing home threatened to admit her unless she changed her house back.
Mrs. Miller was older & much wiser than most of the mere mortal town folks. "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
And so, the pattern continued until each & every house was a unique work of art. And, in the process, more jobs were created that weren't as mundane & corporate. Eventually, they changed the name of the town from Ho-humville to Wonderland.
THE END
Hopefully, this inspired you as much as it did me.
Once there was a Middle American town known as Ho-humville. Ho-humville was a quiet town filled with only the most corperate jobs & the most corperate businesses run by the most mundane people. And, these mundane people lived in all the same house painted & built the same size, shape, & color.
One day, a seagull was flying in the neighboring town of Cape Our Lady Of Guadalupe. The seagull flew over a fish market next to the town's dock to the ocean. It hovered down, & picked up a bucket of salmon-pink paint. The store owner & the painter were in a heated argument over whether to paint the store ambrosia or cerulean, so, they didn't notice the bird fly off with the paint. Well, the seagull didn't get very far, I tell you what. Eventually, it got to Ho-humville. And, when it did, its feet were too weak to carry such a big bucket. So, it dropped the bucket of paint. However, it happened to drop the bucket on the roof of fellow pencil pusher Mr. Johnson's roof.
Mr. Johnson was horrified when he first noticed the pink paint on his black shingles & white walls. But, then, he got an idea. He went to the hardware store, found the exact same shade of salmon pink, & headed home. The next day, there was a fuss all around the neighborhood and the whole town. Mr. Johnson was painting his whole house salmon pink!
A lot of people showed up to see what Mr Johnson was doing. The Home Owners Association threatened to evict him unless he changed his house back to the way it was before. The police threatened to arrest him. The local pastor even shook the holy scriptures & threatened that Mr Johnson was condemned to go to hell unless he kept his house the way it was before.
But, Mr Johnson said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
When Mr. Johnson said this, the whole town thought he went crazy. There was one person who wasn't appalled by Mr. Johnson's actions was his next door neighbor on the left, Mr. Smith. He was also a pencil pusher who was fighting boredom. And, he always wanted to see the ocean. So, he went to the hardware store and purchased some blue paint.
The next day, Mr Smith began to paint blue waves onto his house. Mr Johnson had finished painting his house salmon & was painting his shingles orange. The whole town had decided to leave Mr. Johnson alone.But, they didn't leave Mr Smith alone. This time, local children at school were receiving extra credit for writing letters to Mr. Smith to try to convince him to change his house back.
But, Mr. Smith said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
The town thought Mr. Smith had lost his mind. There was one person besides Mr Johnson that understood. And, that was Ms. Jones. She was Mr. Johnson's neighbor on the right. She was also a secretary that always loved spring. So, she went to the hardware store & bought spring green paint.
Mr. Johnson was now re shingling & painting the roof. Mr. Smith was now painting a sea green on his house where there was once white. The town was leaving them alone. But, when they caught wind of what Ms. Jones was doing, they protested. The PTO even formed an angry mob around the door, threatening to press federal charges unless she changed her house back.
Ever persistent, Ms. Jones said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can say or do can keep me from following my dream in a suburban home."
The town assumed she had also lost her mind. So, they left her alone. Mrs. Miller, a retired schoolteacher who lived across the street from Mr. Johnson, was watching closely. She had always loved sunsets, & had always wanted to paint her house like one. She bought the yellow-orange paint. But, due to her advanced age, she hired three high school boys to do it.
Again, the town protested. This time, the local nursing home threatened to admit her unless she changed her house back.
Mrs. Miller was older & much wiser than most of the mere mortal town folks. "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
And so, the pattern continued until each & every house was a unique work of art. And, in the process, more jobs were created that weren't as mundane & corporate. Eventually, they changed the name of the town from Ho-humville to Wonderland.
THE END
Hopefully, this inspired you as much as it did me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)