Before work today, I sat in the parking lot and listened to a couple of more songs and decided to play this one by Neko Case. I’ve played it from time to time, admiring its simplicity and Case’s talent as a songwriter and vocalist, but I’ve never really payed attention to the words.

I decided to look up what other people thought of the song on Song Meanings dot com and the top rated comment was “I think she wrote this song through the point of view of a dog.” As soon as I read that, I started balling. Full blown tears were falling down my face as that little song played.

Last night I had a dream about a childhood dog who died after getting hit by a car a few years ago. In the dream, he was crying so I hugged him as he sat on my lap. I think what got me so emotional out of nowhere was the fact that I feel kind of guilty for not giving him as good of a life he could have had. I could have taken him on some more walks, taken him to the beach, or even let him sleep with me every once in a while. But I didn’t and now he’s dead. So, yeah.

woodulisten

cumslayer:

So I went on a date today and we went to a nice restaurant before going to the movies and I ordered the “iced grape popsicles” for dessert because I love grape Popsicles so why not right?…..so the waiter brings out the “iced grape popsicles” aND THEY WERE LITERALLY 3 FROZEN GRAPES ON STICKS…..I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE OFFENDED IN MY LIFE…SINCE WHEN ARE 3 FUCKING FROZEN GRAPES IN A FUCKING VASE AN ACCEPTABLE SINGLE DESSERT ORDER..ITS NOT EVEN FROZEN GRAPE JUICE OR SOMETHING ITS LITERALLY JUST A 0.02$ GRAPE THAT WAS PUT ON A STICK THEN FROZEN…LIKE SOMEONE ACTUALLY WROTE THIS DOWN ON THE MENU THINKING “OH YEAH PEOPLE FUCKING LOVE COLD GRAPES” AND SOME OTHER ASSHAT SAID “BRAH. HEAR ME OUT, HOW ABOUT WE PUT THEM ON STICKS AND SERVE THEM IN A VASE WITH NOTHING ELSE” LIKE YOU COULDNT EVEN SERVE IT WITH A FUCKING SECOND FRUIT OR EVEN FUCKING LEAVES OR WHATEVER… IM SO MAD. FUCKING FROZEN GRAPES ON A STICK.

Reblogging ‘cause that guy’s cute.

fuckyeahstvincent

"Cutting through it was the lacerating catharsis of whatever guitar she was channeling the life force of at the moment. While Annie played, her body lost the robotic rigidity and, in a couple instances, she melted onto the floor in flashes of such intense focus that I found myself tearing up from the whole spectacle of it. Toward the end, she pretended to collapse on stage, wiped out by the power of her guitar solo and revived only by the presence of a new guitar. The juxtaposition was beautiful and resonant: Here was a person escaping the robotic and the electric, becoming human through the power of music. The medium was the message. It was fucking cool and also fucking brilliant."