2004-10-23 - 1:29 a.m.
Please, render me apoligies as the shot girl at the bar I made contact at has rendered me, blubbery.
Considering much over the last few decades worth of music I come to see that the themes remain the same. Whatever the venue, or the thought process behind such works of melodic genius, the topics that surround them remain the same.
Who is to say that Forgot about Dre isn't the spirtual sucessor of Johnny be good.
"One day you'll name will be in lights sayin' Johnny be good tonight...Got a crib with a studio and it's all for the tracks, to add to the wall full of plaques, hanging up in the office and back at my house like trophies..."
The most common trend is sex. It's not all that surprising, seeing as if you read the latest dispatch from Mz. Stienem, the male perspective on sex has remained the same over nearly a century.
Well, I'm not one to disagree, but I do believe that that the wording's changed.
My own personal theory: Baby, it's cold outside is the nineteen-thirty's equivelent of the Thong song.
"The themes are similar:
Just translate Baby it's cold outside as either "Let's get it on." or "Let me see that Thong-ta-tong-tong-tong."
It's all the same.
The neighbors might think - Baby, it's bad out there
What's in this drink? Ruffees?! That's what's in this drink. The cycle never ends. It just rolls on. The angry, and desperate males, and the defensive females. Current actions have deteriatored the set roles, but the idea reimanins.
"Baby it's cold outside, but it's warm inside, so let me see that thong-ta-tong-tong."
While we're on the subject, can we discuss what odd mood of spirit offered my phone number to a shot girl at a bar, who tendered me mild conversation. Considering my lone wolf state here in Miami, I wouldn't mind a dinner partner, even if I did have to cover the bill, but still, what spirit moved me to scribble over a napkin...I feel so...bleh. Shouldn't I be on the lookout for a lady who will quote Sartre at will...
Let's be honest, this rational is simply a defence against the inevitable silence of my cell phone over the next few months.
Moving on...I'm feeling naptastic.
Fare thee all well.
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