Among my twisted lyrics that I can’t help but mentally sing when the song comes on:
Doors’ People are Strange: “Women seem wicked, when they are naked.”
Robert Palmer’s Addicted to Love: “Might as well face it, it’s his dick that you love.”
Mony Mony: (in the pauses): “Get laid! Get F’d!”
I’ve said this before, but ticks make me extremely surly.
I went for a walk Saturday through the woods adjacent to our land in ETX. Found two ticks when I returned, pulled them off ok. Now I’m in NM visiting a friend in his last days, and I find three more of the little assholes, all in extremely inconvenient places, that I can’t see without a mirror. When I tried to pull them off with tweezers, all three of those assholes came apart, with their heads still buried. I’m gonna have to go to a freaking clinic to get a PA or LPN to dig them out and it’s gonna cost me real money.
I hate ticks!!!
But then you didn’t participate in the moment. You watched it through a screen, the same as if you were on your couch at home. We completely miss the experience of the moment by trying to document it, when the real value is living in it, experiencing it, as it happens.
I know you’re not disagreeing with me, but what’s the point of taking your own picture of a historic moment which has blanket media coverage? It’ll be a crappy photo and you won’t see the moment with your own eyes.
You’ll see it through a screen, the same as if you were sitting at home. And there will be thousands of professional photos of the moment that will be infinitely better than your phone shot.