IÂ’m a driver, IÂ’m a winner; things are gonna change. I can feel it.

—Beck, "Loser"

Of course, the twelve-steppers are fond of pointing out that "a feeling is a feeling, not a fact."

So why don't you kill me?

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"By the way, please don't be jealous. After all, you already got your song. And the one I'm recording now is for a hooker."

"Fair enough."

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for more posts about kinky sex, more hot cars, and more hot women.

I shall try. Here's a hot girl, who probably ranks as the second most important woman in my life (well, third—I'm pretty self-centered):

And here's a picture from Siggraph this past summer, which led me to believe I shouldn't drink too much at those conventions if I want to find my car at night:

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my favorite Grateful Dead song:

My time coming, any day,

Don't worry about me, no

Been so long I felt this way,

I'm in no hurry, no

Rainbows and down that highway

Where ocean breezes blow

My time coming, voices saying,

They tell me where to go.

Don't worry about me, nah nah nah, don't worry about me, no
And I'm in no hurry, nah nah nah, I know where to go.

California, preaching on the burning shore
California, I'll be knocking on the golden door
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise, I know I'm gonna shine.

My time coming, anyday, don't worry about me, no
It's gonna be just like they say, them voices tell me so
Seems so long I felt this way and time sure passin' slow
Still I know I lead the way, they tell me where I go.

Don't worry about me, no no no, don't worry about me, no
And I'm in no hurry, no no no, I know where to go.

California, a prophet on the burning shore
California, I'll be knocking on the golden door
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise, I know I'm gonna shine.

You've all been asleep, you would not believe me
Them voices tellin' me, you will soon receive me
Standin' on the beach, the sea will part before me
Fire wheel burning in the air!

You will follow me and we will ride to glory—
Way up, the middle of the air!

And I'll call down thunder and speak the same
And my work fills the
Sky with flame
And might and glory gonna be my name
And men gonna light my way.

My time coming, any day,
Don't worry about me, no
It's gonna be just like they say,
Them voices tell me so
Seems so long I felt this way
And time sure passin' slow
My time coming, any day,
Don't worry about me, no.

Don't worry about me, no no no, don't worry about me, no
And I'm in no hurry, no no no, don't worry about me, no.

And, no—YouTube still crashes Safari on this machine, so I can't post the video. Someone else can link it in the comments, if they like.

UPDATE: I've heard the original of this referred to as "reggae," but I'm not sure that's how I see it. Nor did it sound that way to me when I've heard it performed live. But most of the remakes have been in that genre. The one by Burning Spear certainly was.

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had three glazed doughnuts and half a glass of red wine for dinner.

She's very excited about the antioxidants in grapes, but she left sugary residue all over my keyboard.

When is someone going to talk some sense into this person?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:54 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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And it's nothing like what they promised me. For instance, my house is still a mess.

These things don't ever quite live up to the advertising, do they?

Happy new year, everyone.

Note: Due to another spam attack, I'm closing comments down on this post. It's probably safer to respond on another thread—though if you want to comment on this one, just email me what you have to say, and I'll see what I can do.

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