post-ironic quotation marks

Slightly neurotic (but cute!) singleton looking for adventure, finical stability, and some delusion of meaning. With much thought in the topic of sincerity and the occasional film review.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

I shall now communicate only in Mime

Dammit, I lost my voice. It had been giving signs of leaving a few days ago when I started to have a cough but not a cough in my throat (what others might call a frog). It probably didn't help that despite my body telling me via awful headache that I shouldn't go out, I did. Because the alcohol will make my head feel better. However, the overcrowded club and the atmosphere of pure smoke is not a good combination. The music was generic hip hop.

I hate hip hop. Everything else I like. Hell, I even like a lot of country (it retains that blues influence), but hip hop is alien to me. The majority is offensive and misogynistic (sorry, spelled that wrong), and boring to listen to. Everynow and then you get good ones, I like Eminem because either he has interesting lyrics or else he does really interesting things with rhythm that no one else does.

Off to buy soup and orange juice from Tescos.

But first, a bit of outrage from the wires services (via Making Light)

The US Army in Iraq has at least twice seized and jailed the wives of suspected insurgents in hopes of "leveraging" their husbands into surrender, U.S. military documents show.

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