Really? Gowan?!

So spoke, well typed I suppose, my one time love in response to having read the fifteen albums that were the first to come to my mind when I was asked about quality music. Whatever the medium used, the sentiment is the same: Gowan isn't cool.

And instead of serving up a steaming pile of reasons to the contrary defending a Canadian treasure, I'll leave it, it being her of course, with these words: You're fuckin' wrong!!!

Now that I have that outta my system, on to the bits and pieces I humbly refer to as my life.

Somewhere along this twisted path I stumble, I decided that I deserve better than waking up in hospital psych wards. Waking up next to coke addled whores who resolve their issues by hurling glassware. Waking up next to convenience stores missing a shoe, but gaining someones cell phone and $26. Somewhere I decided I deserve better than waking up.

I would think that any of those situations would inspire some to sit down and really look at their lives. I would be, most likely, correct(read: corrupt) in thinking the above thought. Of course, I'm only basing that latter assumption on the fact that I haven't learned much from my past. If given the opportunity to do even half of those damnable things again, I most likely would. And with crippling fucking patience at that.

I'm sure, somewhere, there's some very large, pseudo-scientific acronym pertaining to this condition. But I gotta tell all three of you reading this: I'm not all that concerned about what some bespectacled, overinflated, undersexed pinhead community has to say about what may, or may not be, an actual problem.



And though normally, I would be trying my damndest to defend my past behavior, right now I find myself starting to consider the ramifications of such a shallow learning curve. Seriously.