The end of a work day is so relaxing. Well, it would be even more relaxing if I didn't need to work on getting my daughter in the shower. But Mondays are bad. There's just nothing good about them. Bob Geldoff and the Boomtown Rats were right: "I wanna shoot the whole day down." The only thing good about Monday is you're still alive. Now, if you're off work for the next 4 days Monday night is like Friday night. But alas, tis not the case today. The Cowboys play tonight. I wonder if the cowboys of the west ever had the Monday blues. If they did, they probably just drank it away....and passed out until...Tuesday. That's what I'd like to so; drink my way to the weekend. And then drink my way through the weekend. Booze does the blues good.
It's easy to dismiss Billy Idol as a pop music sensation that faded away 20 or 30 years ago. But before he was Rebel Yelling on the US Billboard Chart, he was the singer in a real-life, British punk band: Generation X. There's nothing wrong with evolving with your art. He might still look like a parody of himself (appearing in the Wedding Singer didn't help) but his current record is clearly a new turn for him. His previous one 10 years ago was strong, but probably more resembled the old stuff from the 80s. He knows how to speed it up and return to punk form, and he knows how to slow it down but remain pure and deep. His name and hair might be fake, but his art moves to wherever the world takes him.
It would be nice if there was some kind of random picture or something of the sort for inspiration here. Each time I click Make Your Fable I have no idea what I'm going to say, and I start rambling. They say "A picture is worth a thousand words". Well then, it's certainly worth a four minute write up. See, now I'm stumped. Just sitting here typing random words and sentences. It can be difficult to get four minutes of uninterrupted time in my life. There's only one place I can do this. Can you guess where I am right now. Maybe I should take a selfie. Maybe not. I feel like I'm just randomly writing in a journal with no inspiration. That's not what I want this to be. Maybe I need to aim more for fiction when I do this. Some life imitating art? I don't know...countdown to blast off.
There are worse things one can do than binging. On food, I mean. Not alcohol or drugs. I mean, not that a good buzz ever hurt anyone. Sometimes you just need to let go. Some binge on running, others binge on Cheerios. Binging on sex would never work. At least not for a man. I mean, what they don't tell you about the filming of a porn flick is that each scene for one man is filmed several days apart to ensure his stamina recovers. Ok, maybe that's projection of jealousy on my part. But back to Cheerios. They've clearly changed the formula. They were my binge of choice in 1981, used to eat them dry all the time. But they taste like crap now. Health?