Friday, December 30, 2005
Breakfast Drugs
original post:
http://ubermorgen.sonance.net/hansbernhardblog/archives/000382.html
September 15, 2005
Breakfast Drugs
12:15
2x500 mg Depakine
1x300 mg Neurotop
0,05 mg Thyrex
250 microgram Seretide
1 Coffee
Posted by hans at September 15, 2005 08:13 PM
download the song:
http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/breakfastdrugs.mp3
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posted by abe linkoln @ 9:00 PM
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KING WINKLES IS YELLING SHOUT-OUTS!!
original post:
http://thisismycomputerblog.blogspot.com/2005/01/king-winkles-is-yelling-shout-outs.html
Friday, January 21
KING WINKLES IS YELLING SHOUT-OUTS!!
KING WINKLES IS YELLING SHOUT OUTS TONIGHT!! KING WINKLES IS GIVING A SHOUT-OUT TO SUPER MOP-TOP AND ULTRA-BEAN! SHOUT-OUT TO OLD SALTS! KING WINKLES IS YELLING A SHOUT-OUT TO MONKEY HORN-HONKERS AND COWBOY WRANGLER-GOOSE! KING WINKLES HAS BIG SHOUT-OUTS TO THE OWLS AND BEAN-WRANGLER DOG! HERE'S BEAN-WRANGLER DOG! HE WRANGLES THE BEANS!!!!
HE'S BEST FRIENDS WITH THE GOOSE!
posted by Eggagog at 10:13 PM
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http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/kingwinklesisyellingshoutouts.mp3
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posted by Marisa S. Olson @ 8:30 PM
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It Feels Almost Like A Holiday
original post:
http://www.fluxblog.org/2005/12/it-feels-almost-like-holiday-wir-sind.html
December 19, 2005
It Feels Almost Like A Holiday
Wir Sind Helden "Nur Ein Wort" -
my problem with German pop
is that I can't sing along
the words melt into formless sounds
and no concepts emerge
to help me to enjoy this pretty song
even more than I already do
I have written these new words
as a rough phonetic guide
it is somewhat ridiculous, I know
I've already botched the meter
but it's okay, it keeps the pace
I'm allowed some poetic license
these new lyrics to the song
they help me to sing along
my silly English lyrics for a
German catchy indie pop song
this sounds like Sleeper and Nena
"99 Luftballons," kinda
it's good for dancing, a new wave beat
it makes you sway from side to side
and in the second verse
she sounds so smitten but I read
the English translation and
and it seems that she's desperate and heartbroken
this bridge feels so familiar, I can't help but like it
Wir Sind Helden is big in Austria and Germany
not hard to understand why
with English lyrics to the song
Americans could sing along
the more I hear it, the more I love
this catchy German indie pop song
(Click here for the official Wir Sind Helden site and here to buy it from Amazon Germany.)
Morane "Living On A Traffic Island" - The summer is long gone at this point, but there is no reason to shun a perfect summery pop tune, especially when its central theme - finding tranquility in the midst of frantic movement - is particularly relevant at this time of the year. The music is perfectly suited to the lyrics, evoking easy going Brazillian pop while communicating the jittery restlessness of someone who is throughly rattled by the rush of the city. (Click here to buy it from Juno.)
- Matthew Perpetua, 12/19/2005 Comments (12)
download the song:
http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/itfeelsalmostlikeaholiday.mp3
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posted by abe linkoln @ 6:00 PM
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OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M THE NOMINEE!!!
original post:
http://harrietmiers.blogspot.com/2005/10/omg-i-cant-believe-im-nominee.html
Monday, October 03, 2005
OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M THE NOMINEE!!!
This is BIGGEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!! EVER!!!!
OMG OMG OMG
posted by Harriet Miers @ 11:21 AM
download the song:
http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/omgicantbelieveimthenominee.mp3
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posted by Marisa S. Olson @ 5:00 PM
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estoy
original post:
http://mirada.arkania.org/mandel/2005_09_01_mandel.html#112571282680032206
estoy
borracha, x me ha dicho antes de despedirme que debía escribir un par de textos, puedo coger y poner
1
y luego escribir otro y poner
2
y ya quedar consagrada como diario en red de culto y tal pero
hay algo
que me gustaría anotar sobre esta noche, jodidamente todo son instantes de mayor intimidad que los que tuve con mi hermana así que considero que no son
directamente objetos de escritura,
son esos bellísimos instantes de intimidad con un alguien o con varios alguienes que son inefables y sólo uno puede comprenderlos, son el telar sobre el que Jarmusch
por ejemplo construye Down by law,
hay que saber
de estos instantes, conocerlos muy bien, para escribir Down by law o Ultimo tango en Paris, que ayer volví a ver, el texto nº 2 debería tratar sobre marlon brandon pegando su chicle bajo la barandilla de la pija francesa antes de morir asesinado por un... (?)
debería escribir que marlon brandon me recuerda a alguien que una vez deseé y.
Ella escribió # 3:53 AM
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http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/estoy.mp3
#
posted by abe linkoln @ 4:00 PM
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I'm really worried about Michael McDonald
original post:
http://umeancompetitor.blogspot.com/2005/12/im-really-worried-about-michael.html
MONDAY, DECEMBER 26, 2005
I'm really worried about Michael McDonald
Several moments ago, I received a disturbing RM from Michael McDonald!
What you don't know what an "RM" is? Oh yeah, I forgot: you don't know about secret Google except for what I tell you on my blog!
"RM" stands for secret secret Google talk secret Retroactivated secret Messager internetsies. RM is like your IM or when you invade MySpace instantaneously with emoticons or whatever, except it's much much more instant. RMs propagate through interinterinternet particles at ann irregular speed, such that they travel backwards in time. Mike's RM came from several weeks hence (which, coincidentally, is when the next MMcD post-series will begin).
One part of the message was an enigmatic animatronic gifford Mike made by himself
I'm glad Mike's taking giffordogenesis into his own hands, but I dunno what those floppies are supposed to mean. I guess they're supposed to be sad, because read what the text of Mike's RM, of which here's a picture, says :
Yeah that's right, RMs are written on paper in composition notebooks. So in addition to being more instant than instant, they are also more organic. Also, you see how Michael McDonald underlined his name and wrote it in a different color pen. That's how you do links in RMs, and so, similar to internet links, when I touch the words "Michael McDonald" I go to Michael McDonald's webpage. Unlike internet links, in an RM I actually also think about Michael McDonald when I go to his webpage.
Hrvatski - Organix
Don't get jealous, maybe someday I will teach you how to do this cheatcode.
But doesn'tMichael McDonald's handwriting look wierd? I think he's still dancing to the Hardoff remix Epcot's imagineers threw at him.
Saying that thing about "Numbers are not just facts", Michael McDonald is alluding to Digby's post about this Post garbage, but the numbers Mike's talkin bout are the numbers his new Xmas album is doing, and those are some big numbers. So why does he say he feels bad? I don't know, and not knowing is all the more baffling!
I do know this: fuck whoever might want to talk down on Michael McDonald because his last 3 albums have been Motown, Motown 2, and an Xmas album (on Hallmark records!). Whoever is saying "What is he scared to songwrite the songs for himself?" Please! Ever since he was saying "Foreign Movie", Michael McDonald's credibility has been indelibility and it will be forever! So you need to just stop talking all that shit. Plus this Xmas album is hella good! Feel his FaLaLas:
Michael McDonald - Deck the halls/Jingle Bells
Michael McDonald - Auld Lang Syne/O Tannenbaum (Reprise)
And so that's the message Michael McDonald RM'd me. Michael McDonald has me so worried, because it's really unlike him to be so cryptic! Is he still planning revenge against the imagineers? Or is he too ashamed of those dances he was doing? I don't know what it means, and I couldn't write back to him to ask him to clarify, because he sent me the message from the future, and he hasn't shown me yet how to send messages to the future. I'm going to listen to his Xmas album a lot because maybe there's secret messages in it! But I'm really worried!
POSTED BY 893 AT 11:03 AM
download the song:
http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/i'mreallyworriedaboutmichaelmcdonald.mp3
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posted by Marisa S. Olson @ 3:00 PM
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S/FJ F/J (IF 5 WAS 9 REMIX)
original post:
http://sfj.abstractdynamics.org/archives/006188.html
August 16, 2005
S/FJ F/J (IF 5 WAS 9 REMIX)
[Conversation between author and publisher, as the former typed.
"Isn't this weird?"
"Yes. Do you have any idea when you'll be done?"
"Probably after Starbucks is closed. Look at all the fives. It's like a five factory. The fives are dancing."]
hi. i am not 4 or 3 or 2 or 1 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 9 or 0. end, ok? good good good. xoxo jonah
do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do1234567890
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Posted by Sasha at August 16, 2005 10:36 AM TrackBack
download the song:
http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/sfjfjif5was9remix.mp3
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posted by abe linkoln @ 12:00 PM
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I fucking HATE Horses
original post:
http://horsehater.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-fucking-hate-horses_16.html
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
I fucking HATE Horses
If i ever see one even for a second, i swear to jesus i will punch that asshole horse in the balls. I HATE HORSES. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM.
Seriously I really do.
posted by Glue Factory Bob | 12:08 PM
download the song:
http://www.linkoln.net/abeandmosingtheblogs/ifuckinghatehorses.mp3
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posted by Marisa S. Olson @ 11:00 AM
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