Starry nights, city lights coming down over me. Skyscrapers and stargazers in my head.
I still get goose bumps when I recall the cast rendition of "We are the Waiting." I knew St. Jimmy was about to make a Judas-like entrance. Then the soon to become infamous pump up the vein, tie it off, burn the spoon, and shoot it up choreography. But St. Jimmy also had a Judas-like exit. Still, though, seeing a couple dancing while connected by a rubber tie off cord hit scarily close to home. At least they didn't sing, "Memories." t.s. elliot is not Green Day. And American Idiot is not the abomination that Cats was.
2 comments:
Let me know if you can read my blog ok or if it's still blocking people. Thanks.
I dropped in to say thanks for the compliment. After reading your blog, I realized the size of the compliment. Your writing, to me, is a lot like Hunter S. Thompson. You're a man's writer; a good mix of grit and sex. My compliments right back at ya. xo d
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