And so, devastated by TOMMY's superior wisdom and sickened by blondacity (or blondie-ism, if you prefer 90s reductionist terminology to the classical,) I sought comfort in the loving arms of spring's return. Yes I wandered transcendent through the flora, contemplating happiness and meaning and bunnies, merrily passing the weeks without a care, sleeping on or under park benches and eating from the garbage, until the gnashing of teeth of our blog's millions of readers startled me back, and it was time to get in the van and go to the gig.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Excuse #6: Communion with Nature
And so, devastated by TOMMY's superior wisdom and sickened by blondacity (or blondie-ism, if you prefer 90s reductionist terminology to the classical,) I sought comfort in the loving arms of spring's return. Yes I wandered transcendent through the flora, contemplating happiness and meaning and bunnies, merrily passing the weeks without a care, sleeping on or under park benches and eating from the garbage, until the gnashing of teeth of our blog's millions of readers startled me back, and it was time to get in the van and go to the gig.
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3 comments:
See that little line break where "the gig" ends up sitting all by itself unindented and looking stupid? Is that called an orphan or something? A bitch, maybe? TT sure looks sexy in that picture, denying his inner blondeness for sure.
Don't forget the sleeping around part.
JV
Let's order the decorative crotchwear when we get that invisible yet impenetrable new full-body spray on membrane to protect Tom from flying microphones and bass headstocks (not to mention those cuties in the front row who can't help but tumble on him)! I hear he has a credit card that he said we can put WHATEVER on and pay off WHENEVER!
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