minnesota has never been so proud.

death cab

"Your New Twin Sized Bed"

You look so defeated lying there in your new twin size bed.
With a single pillow underneath your single head.
I guess you decided that that old queen holds more space than you would need.
Now it's in the alley behind your apartment with a sign that says it's free.

And I hope you have more luck with this than me.

You used to think that someone would come along.
And lay beside you in a space that they belong.
But the other side of the mattress and box springs stayed like new.
What's the point of holding onto what never gets used?

Other than a sick desire for self-abuse.

And I try not to worry, but you've got me terrified.
It's like your some kind of hurry to say goodbye, say goodbye, say goodbye.

You look so defeated lying there in your new twin size bed.
You look so defeated lying there in your new twin size


-
fuck you death cab, that's all.

08.03.08

do doo do, do doo do, ahh. do doo do, do doo do, ahh. i love storms, especially when you get the rare chance to wake up and experience a storm roll in. I feel so refreshed sitting on my brown slightly used couch, in my aging apartment, letting my fingers caress the strings of a borrowed guitar while the rain taps against the window. I really hope it rains again soon. bop baaa bop, bop baa bop, ahh. bop baa bop, bop baa bop, ahh.

I haven't had a whole lot to say lately. I've been pretty tired. I really would like a day to go to st anthony main and see a movie. My apartment doesn't have a/c, its kinda a bummer, but not really. Right now there are all these weird noses outside. I think that my neighbor in the next building is packing because I keep hearing what i assume to be duct tape being unrolled and glasses tinging. At least I hope she's packing or else I should be calling the police.

Enough about me, how are you?

thoughts

i don't about you but i kinda think personal fireworks should be illegal. i don't really get them and they're pretty dangerous. eh?

july

she's a market girl, she'll take it right after you. so dance. and dance. and dance. and dance. she loves those sad sappy sucker songs. well, hey! elliot smith, we love you. seriously though you should trust me. its so hotttt in here, its hot as hades, ladies. maybe we should just turn the fan on. i doubt i told you but i love your graphic tee and scraped up skateboard. its too bad that your phone stopped working. bop, bop, bop, bop, bop, bop, bop bop. what?!?! i know you have a heavy heart. i can feel it when we kiss. those freim-emies will be your undoing. and please, please change the channel before the pitchers give up any more home runs. hopefully one of these days, i'll get a real job, one that actually pays. like my dad did. you know if you stand on that chair, it'll probably break and you don't have money to buy a new one. i like that you only write pseudo-love songs or at least aspire to. is this cryptic? no. probably. my upstairs neighbors are being super loud. and they dance. and dance. and run. and dance. i don't want to take you home. please don't make me sleep alone. if i could i'd only want to make you smile, if you'd stay with me a while. seriously though, lets just kill them with kindness. if you read this whole thing you're a better person than me.

tomorrows july. drink some sangria and watch this:



or my new love: