Am sitting in AKL waiting to board a plane from Christchurch to Dunedin. Feels odd being all by my onesy, but somewhat surprisingly not overwhelming or daunting at all. Half expect to see the fam pop out of nowhere.
Trip over from LA was alright. Had somewhat bland but vegan food on plane. Quite a few episodes of turbulance. Watched "27 Dresses," "Rachel Getting Married," and part of "RocknRolla." Practically sobbed throughout all of "Rachel Getting Married" for various reasons... thoughts of brother included. Took a bit of a nap - 4 hours or so.
People here are very friendly. At every time I have had to move my ridiculously heavy and large bags, I was offered help.
Hahaha, there's a shitload of students; wonder how many I'll actually end up knowing...
About Me
- Sharlovely
- El Segundo
- Make art not war. I drink copious amounts of tea. Slaughterhouses make me cry. I am obsessed with food, and as such, I eat constantly. Music makes me loose control.
The Day After Tomorrow
If all goes as planned, the day after tomorrow will be absolutely nonexistant, lost amongst the days of my life. The day after tomorrow is Saturday, and if I get on that plane tomorrow night, Saturday will vanish as I cross the international date line. Woot.
But fuck damn...
So, here's the story. I will most likely leave LA Friday night. I will land at AKL on Sunday morning. But then here's the shitty part: I might not be able to get on a flight to Dunedin until Monday morning. Meaning (this is for any dimwits that may be reading my whine-fest), I will be spending the night in an airport terminal. Fun, right?? However there are 19 flights daily from AKL to DUD everyday, so hopefully just ONE person decides to cancel/stay put in Auckland.
Grrrr.
But fuck damn...
So, here's the story. I will most likely leave LA Friday night. I will land at AKL on Sunday morning. But then here's the shitty part: I might not be able to get on a flight to Dunedin until Monday morning. Meaning (this is for any dimwits that may be reading my whine-fest), I will be spending the night in an airport terminal. Fun, right?? However there are 19 flights daily from AKL to DUD everyday, so hopefully just ONE person decides to cancel/stay put in Auckland.
Grrrr.
Street Art Heaven aka Melbourne
One of my newest must-visit locations is Melbourne, Australia. (Hahaha, ironically, my dad really wanted me to consider the Uni there...) This is mostly due to the rockin' alternative culture (just check out melbournestreetfashion.com - I follow it religiously), and partly due to the thriving street-art in the city. (Sadly though there are currently out-of-control brush fires sweeping the state of Victoria, leaving hundreds of people and animals dead). Here are just a handful of random images I found:
And then here's a random image I found that I also just happened to fall in love with:
A rainbow town... just my kind of town. I will find this street someday...or at least some street that gives me an equivalent feeling of elation.
And then here's a random image I found that I also just happened to fall in love with:
A rainbow town... just my kind of town. I will find this street someday...or at least some street that gives me an equivalent feeling of elation.
PostSecret Bondage
Except I refrain from throwing down beats in airplane lavatories. Only because those things are way too small for me to spread my legs adequately.
(That last bit was a joke... I swear...)
My Last Supper
Tonight's Top Chef left me in a pensive, food-related state... yet again.
On tonight's episode, the contestants were asked to prepare the ideal last meals of some real top chefs, which in turn got me pondering about what my last meal would be if I could have my choice.
The only thing came to mind was a LTA (lettuce, tomato, and avocado) sandwich on toasted white bread. Nice and simple. (So simple that I can hardly believe it myself, but I really can't think of anything better.)
Now mind you, the ingredients would ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY have to be top quality. Like I am talking about the freshest, crispiest lettuce imaginable with a juicy, not-too-ripe-or-sweet, firm tomato (maybe VERY lightly seared just for a bit of caramelization, while completely retaining my desired firmness). It would be crucial, too, to have the freshest avocado, thinly and evenly sliced.
The lettuce should be seasoned with just a dash of salt and a touch of pepper. The tomato would be in the middle and VERY lightly drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. The avocado too should be just barely touched with the EVOO (Rachel Ray's fave term) and it would not be frowned upon to have the toast on the avocado side flickered with vinegar.
Warm, freshly made plain white bread should be toasted to the color of caramel for the meal.
Cut diagonally would be ideal.
And an arnold palmer on hand to wash it down with.
...And that ladies and gentlemen is a meal I would indeed die for.
On tonight's episode, the contestants were asked to prepare the ideal last meals of some real top chefs, which in turn got me pondering about what my last meal would be if I could have my choice.
The only thing came to mind was a LTA (lettuce, tomato, and avocado) sandwich on toasted white bread. Nice and simple. (So simple that I can hardly believe it myself, but I really can't think of anything better.)
Now mind you, the ingredients would ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY have to be top quality. Like I am talking about the freshest, crispiest lettuce imaginable with a juicy, not-too-ripe-or-sweet, firm tomato (maybe VERY lightly seared just for a bit of caramelization, while completely retaining my desired firmness). It would be crucial, too, to have the freshest avocado, thinly and evenly sliced.
The lettuce should be seasoned with just a dash of salt and a touch of pepper. The tomato would be in the middle and VERY lightly drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. The avocado too should be just barely touched with the EVOO (Rachel Ray's fave term) and it would not be frowned upon to have the toast on the avocado side flickered with vinegar.
Warm, freshly made plain white bread should be toasted to the color of caramel for the meal.
Cut diagonally would be ideal.
And an arnold palmer on hand to wash it down with.
...And that ladies and gentlemen is a meal I would indeed die for.
YAY FOR NEW OBSESSIONS
I cannot go online and not check out that shizz. The good, the bad, and the ugly; they all sensuously call my name, invite my fickle judgement, and encourage my sometimes snide remarks. And sadly, it may be a step down from that other street fashion blog of mine (Elle Magazine's Street Chic).
Whatev. I'm gonna go OD on electronica now. I'll leave you with my fave chicks of the week though (courtesy of melbournestreetfashion.com). Au revoir!
I'm sorry, but I was so fucking tired (still am, actually)
In retrospect I would like to apologize for what an idiot I sound like in that last blog entry. I swear I'm not THAT idiotic.
I shall do as every other fuckup does; offer an excuse.
I was tired.
I shall do as every other fuckup does; offer an excuse.
I was tired.
Broadening my horizons and expanding my vocabulary.
So its 3 in the morn and to be quite frank, I'm bored as fuck. I've done all the usual things (watched a ridic amount of youtube vids, myspace/facebook stalked, taken stupid, but time-consuming quizzes, etc. ) to try to relieve myself of this by-product of insomnia. I even went to Wikipedia and started typing in random things to see what it would say about about whatever popped into my head. During one of these nonsensical knowledge binges, I found my fave new word - bloat (noun, not verb; and you may be wondering why such a word - oh the lovely peculiars of the crimson wave...). Besides being "the act of filling up one's cheeks with air," a bloat is also a collective noun for a group of hippopotami!
HOW SPIFFY IS THAT!?!?!?!
And of course I went on to try to find a picture as the definition was to me, but alas, all I got was a bunch of pictures of sick dogs D:
HOW SPIFFY IS THAT!?!?!?!
And of course I went on to try to find a picture as the definition was to me, but alas, all I got was a bunch of pictures of sick dogs D:
Viruses Hinder Bloggage
Yeah, so as the title may suggest(or may not if you think that far out of the box - more props to you, mate), my computer is plagued with viruses.
That are still present.
And I SWEAR I haven't been looking at porn.
It blows.
Happy Birthday:
...it reminded me of mcsexonlegs, but c'mon, what doesn't?
and she's cute too
That are still present.
And I SWEAR I haven't been looking at porn.
It blows.
Happy Birthday:
...it reminded me of mcsexonlegs, but c'mon, what doesn't?
and she's cute too
Two Bands I Can Not Stand, But Pandora Insists on Playing Anyway..
The Strokes and The Killers. Two bands that come up TOO FUCKING OFTEN on my Pandora playlists because I like that overall genre of music and have too many "similar band" stations.
I actually used to love the The Stokes once upon a time. Went through a mini-obsession actually. But sadly, one day I woke up and decided that my love for Fabrizio Moretti, Nick Valensi, and Albert Hammond Jr, (and the remaining bandmate whose name I can't remember) had died, in retrospect, most likely due to overkill.
And there was that thing that one boy said, but let's not get into that because I want to ride the high as long as I can.
*insert sarcastic and bitter sneer here*
The Killers.
Once upon a time I thought they were fantastic. I remember when they first started out I felt so smug because I knew about a great band that no one else did. Hahaha, dear (proverbial) god, I've always been a music snob, haven't I?
I probably dislike them because they're so fucking mainstream now.
What a douchebag.
Nay, douche-nozzle.
Now my gift for you for reading the shizz above:
(the unremixed version is better but this is much more upbeat)
I actually used to love the The Stokes once upon a time. Went through a mini-obsession actually. But sadly, one day I woke up and decided that my love for Fabrizio Moretti, Nick Valensi, and Albert Hammond Jr, (and the remaining bandmate whose name I can't remember) had died, in retrospect, most likely due to overkill.
And there was that thing that one boy said, but let's not get into that because I want to ride the high as long as I can.
*insert sarcastic and bitter sneer here*
The Killers.
Once upon a time I thought they were fantastic. I remember when they first started out I felt so smug because I knew about a great band that no one else did. Hahaha, dear (proverbial) god, I've always been a music snob, haven't I?
I probably dislike them because they're so fucking mainstream now.
What a douchebag.
Nay, douche-nozzle.
Now my gift for you for reading the shizz above:
(the unremixed version is better but this is much more upbeat)
Internerd-dom Has its Advantages
Like bonding with some random stranger's postsecret.com confessions. This is the only one I had balls to put up though.
A Question for the Ages
"If he's [Mr. Fantastic] made of rubber, does he ever get hard...and can he make it longer?"
- Kyra Kudravy
- Kyra Kudravy
Pahahaha
I find it highly amusing that all my daydreams concerning my impending relocation to New Zealand fail to include actually going to school and attending school. They all involve socializing, traveling, and more socializing.
Lulz, daddy dearst would blow a fuse... XD
(Currently listening to an awesome smash up of Bloc Party and DFA 1979 - Luno)
Lulz, daddy dearst would blow a fuse... XD
(Currently listening to an awesome smash up of Bloc Party and DFA 1979 - Luno)
Slumdog Millionaire
Good Movie.
Nay, Great Movie.
(It even had a Bollywood dance number at the end!!!)
It's been a while since I've been actually spiritually moved by a film. Or cried while watching for that matter. Yes, I hate to admit it but I spent the majority of the first hour crying on and off.
Poor (financially speaking or otherwise) children always get to me. Though it might have been because the kid reminded me of Elvin D:
Nay, Great Movie.
(It even had a Bollywood dance number at the end!!!)
It's been a while since I've been actually spiritually moved by a film. Or cried while watching for that matter. Yes, I hate to admit it but I spent the majority of the first hour crying on and off.
Poor (financially speaking or otherwise) children always get to me. Though it might have been because the kid reminded me of Elvin D:
Stars Among Planets
I feel like there are certain people in life that in memories will shine brighter than others, and no dipshit, I do not mean family and close friends.
In my case, looking back at all my eighteen years of memories, there are three people from my childhood and three people of my recent past that stand out (Lets call them persons A through F).
Some of these people have geniunely affected my life, and some are just lost friends/aquaintances that randomly find themselves in my thoughts. All are people I don't think I will ever forget.
Person A: Matt Something from kindergarten - he had Patrick Dempsy like hair but was blonde. He was also very flamboyant and my first crush. What is noteworthy is that I can't imagine him growing up. When I try to do so, he grows up to be a cokewhore and a wasted individual. I don't try anymore.
Person B: Kymberly Something from standard one - a very shy little girl. Also one of the nicest girls I had ever met. I distinctly remember that she would wear a pink headband with a bow and a cream coloured cardigan. I think I googled her once and actually found her. I am so creepy. (OH, and I wrote a journal entry about her when I first came to the States, and I remember the teacher absolutely refused to accept her name spelling, told me I spelled it wrong, and made me change it while simultaneously sparking the breaking of the spirit).
Person C: Anita the Korean girl - She wasn't a mean girl, but she gave me my first taste of how mean the world could be when she told me my religion wasn't real and that Christianity was the only real and true religion in the world. I was six. And left very confused as religion was crucial to my being at that age. It wasn't all bad, as it gave me my favorite memory of my grandfather (to whom I confided and who comforted - without condemning/speaking negatively of her in any way).
Person D: Kay - Sure she's a close friend, but even if we were to loose touch I would never be able to forget her. Not until after 2027. (NOT a random year).
Person E: That foreigner that got deported - I feel like we will be friends for a long time to come. Arguing for most of that time, but underneath it all, there is an inexplicable understanding. Even when certain phrases won't translate.
Person F: Juan McSexonlegs - the infatuation is still there. I find myself randomly making up scenarios in my head in which we run into each other in the far future (or I contact him) we hit it off. Troubling though are the characteristics my imagination has chosen for him...miserable, lonely, suicidal, alcoholic, etc. I also randomly wonder if he's alive because he has to be or because he wants to be.
In my case, looking back at all my eighteen years of memories, there are three people from my childhood and three people of my recent past that stand out (Lets call them persons A through F).
Some of these people have geniunely affected my life, and some are just lost friends/aquaintances that randomly find themselves in my thoughts. All are people I don't think I will ever forget.
Person A: Matt Something from kindergarten - he had Patrick Dempsy like hair but was blonde. He was also very flamboyant and my first crush. What is noteworthy is that I can't imagine him growing up. When I try to do so, he grows up to be a cokewhore and a wasted individual. I don't try anymore.
Person B: Kymberly Something from standard one - a very shy little girl. Also one of the nicest girls I had ever met. I distinctly remember that she would wear a pink headband with a bow and a cream coloured cardigan. I think I googled her once and actually found her. I am so creepy. (OH, and I wrote a journal entry about her when I first came to the States, and I remember the teacher absolutely refused to accept her name spelling, told me I spelled it wrong, and made me change it while simultaneously sparking the breaking of the spirit).
Person C: Anita the Korean girl - She wasn't a mean girl, but she gave me my first taste of how mean the world could be when she told me my religion wasn't real and that Christianity was the only real and true religion in the world. I was six. And left very confused as religion was crucial to my being at that age. It wasn't all bad, as it gave me my favorite memory of my grandfather (to whom I confided and who comforted - without condemning/speaking negatively of her in any way).
Person D: Kay - Sure she's a close friend, but even if we were to loose touch I would never be able to forget her. Not until after 2027. (NOT a random year).
Person E: That foreigner that got deported - I feel like we will be friends for a long time to come. Arguing for most of that time, but underneath it all, there is an inexplicable understanding. Even when certain phrases won't translate.
Person F: Juan McSexonlegs - the infatuation is still there. I find myself randomly making up scenarios in my head in which we run into each other in the far future (or I contact him) we hit it off. Troubling though are the characteristics my imagination has chosen for him...miserable, lonely, suicidal, alcoholic, etc. I also randomly wonder if he's alive because he has to be or because he wants to be.
Character...
Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.
- Author Unknown
- Author Unknown
Oh, sad day...
Top Chef is one of my favorite shows. I love watching (almost) every aspect of the show. I watch repeat episodes happily. I'll sit in front of the telly and watch six hour marathons without realizing where the time went.
However in tonight's episode, they went to a farm to pick up their ingredients. Including the meat ("protein") ingredients.
Yep, right before they slaughtered the animals to put in their pots and pans, they got to do a little meat (oh sorry, I meant meet) and greet with their ingredients/poor defensive less little animals raised to die. (Well, technically they met the family and friends of the unfortunate few who got fed to Padma and Tom's guests.)
So sad.
D:
However in tonight's episode, they went to a farm to pick up their ingredients. Including the meat ("protein") ingredients.
Yep, right before they slaughtered the animals to put in their pots and pans, they got to do a little meat (oh sorry, I meant meet) and greet with their ingredients/poor defensive less little animals raised to die. (Well, technically they met the family and friends of the unfortunate few who got fed to Padma and Tom's guests.)
So sad.
D:
QT(s)
When I am in Italy, I will track down this very bug and take this exact picture.
Then the driver will drive me to the nearest soccer stadium, where ideally I will run into Fabio Cannavaro or Monica Belluci. :D
(Do Vegans Take Honeymoons?)
If I ever get married (37!), I have a wonderful honeymoon spot in mind. (Fuck what my spouse may think about it).
Port Louis. The capital of Mauritius. An teensy weensy lil island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
Why you ask? Because of Ian from Globetrekker. (HE ROX MY SOX :D)
But seriously, I really want to go there. It has sepped into the top of my list of places to venture about in before I kick the bucket.
Not only does it have the sea and the mountains, but due to the conquistadors, imperialists, and the french, the island is home to a multitude of cultures, as well as a hybrid culture. The vast majority of the people have Indian features (dot not feather; hahaha, I'll fit in nicely), and the Indian culture in general has been a great influence. (Ian was eating puri from a kiosk!)
And the best bit? It was home to the Dodo bird. :D
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Louis
Port Louis. The capital of Mauritius. An teensy weensy lil island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
Why you ask? Because of Ian from Globetrekker. (HE ROX MY SOX :D)
But seriously, I really want to go there. It has sepped into the top of my list of places to venture about in before I kick the bucket.
Not only does it have the sea and the mountains, but due to the conquistadors, imperialists, and the french, the island is home to a multitude of cultures, as well as a hybrid culture. The vast majority of the people have Indian features (dot not feather; hahaha, I'll fit in nicely), and the Indian culture in general has been a great influence. (Ian was eating puri from a kiosk!)
And the best bit? It was home to the Dodo bird. :D
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Louis
Good Stuff Has Good Stuff
JK, I actually <3 them.
OMG SHOES!
It seems I spent the day finding the loveliest things. Of course, I didn't have any money to spend on them, as today, I finally bought a totally tubular and pirate-esque coat (I may post a pic later).And then there were the things that I wanted but did not purchase.
Exhibit A: The shoes to the left. AND they were on sale.
I also found the cutest leopard print purse and not one but three beautiful leopard print scarfs.
(Leopard print is my latest pattern obsession).
And then there were the magical shoes that made my legs look as long as Ron Jeremy. (Ironically, they were from Paris Hilton's line...)
Its Painful to Realize...
How incredibly naive, ignorant, and childish I am at times.
I am 18 years old.
Legally I am an adult, but those who know me would prolly argue otherwise... as demonstrated by my usage of 'prolly'. In any case, I am on the precipice of adulthood; shouldn't I be at least a bit disillusioned by life by now? Shouldn't those fantasies of traveling, doing nothing in particular, financial security regardless of whatever I end up doing or not doing, finding true and pure love have passed by now?
Well, they haven't. I constantly dream of a life full of smiles, hidden intimate moments, and just pure satisfaction.
Sometimes this juvenile optimism makes me even more aware of my lack of experience in 'the real world.'
I hate being so optimistic, sometimes if only because to avoid the condescension that others so lovingly bestow on my being.
Good times.
:/
I am 18 years old.
Legally I am an adult, but those who know me would prolly argue otherwise... as demonstrated by my usage of 'prolly'. In any case, I am on the precipice of adulthood; shouldn't I be at least a bit disillusioned by life by now? Shouldn't those fantasies of traveling, doing nothing in particular, financial security regardless of whatever I end up doing or not doing, finding true and pure love have passed by now?
Well, they haven't. I constantly dream of a life full of smiles, hidden intimate moments, and just pure satisfaction.
Sometimes this juvenile optimism makes me even more aware of my lack of experience in 'the real world.'
I hate being so optimistic, sometimes if only because to avoid the condescension that others so lovingly bestow on my being.
Good times.
:/
OM NOM NOM
I had a really good vegan brownie today (three cheers for whole foods!!!). For breakfast.
That's right, bitches.
(And so moist! ...lay off the innuendo plzzzzz)
I even found a variety of pies, all vegan and...raw. Si senor(ita) completely raw. Have no idea how they do it. And they had a variey of delicious looking desserts: pecan pie, ice creams, brownies, cakes, ...twas all very heavenly.
That's right, bitches.
(And so moist! ...lay off the innuendo plzzzzz)
I even found a variety of pies, all vegan and...raw. Si senor(ita) completely raw. Have no idea how they do it. And they had a variey of delicious looking desserts: pecan pie, ice creams, brownies, cakes, ...twas all very heavenly.
Memorable Quote
"Memory could save, [it] had power, [it] was often the only recourse of the powerless, the oppressed or the brutalized."
-
-
Lucky Afterword
Lucky, by Alice Sebold, was an interesting read... to say the least... The 244 (PATTERN!!!) page memoir chronicles Sebold's rape as during her freshman year at Syracuse, and its aftermath (effects, trial, etc.)
But to tell the truth, it's not worth reading until page 234 - the riveting aftermath begins. Only in those few pages, one really sees how fucked up Sebold's life really became (whether her life would have taken a different turn were it not for the rape is an argument for another time). From a heroin dependency to promiscuity to alcoholism, the aftermath is ironically the most sobering part (lulz; aren't I punny?) of the novel. It was so moving that those rare waves of gratitude came a-coming for the overprotected and 'inexperienced' I have led thus far.
It also made me feel not sorry but just much more aware of all those people I know who may lead an exhilarating but all in all unhealthy and unhappy lifestyle (which I foolishly covet at times). And these are young people who quite literally have the rest of their lives in front of them. There is nothing glamorous about spending one's days slave to the drink, waking up in unknown places, surrounded by violence, and even worse, expecting the violence, the heartache, the pain, and misery.
I refuse to believe that life is supposed to be like that; life is only what one makes it out to be. Call me an optimist, but don't you dare to call yourself a fucking realist.
Read the afterword and discuss it with me. I've gotten to the point where I'm so frustrated that I can't bother with even trying to articulate my thoughts into a comprehensible argument.
I might write a book review like I had orginally set out to do later. No promises.
Oh and I should mention that there is someone in particular that has incurred the frustration. He doesn't know. Nor does he know I care. I don't know if he cares that I care.
But to tell the truth, it's not worth reading until page 234 - the riveting aftermath begins. Only in those few pages, one really sees how fucked up Sebold's life really became (whether her life would have taken a different turn were it not for the rape is an argument for another time). From a heroin dependency to promiscuity to alcoholism, the aftermath is ironically the most sobering part (lulz; aren't I punny?) of the novel. It was so moving that those rare waves of gratitude came a-coming for the overprotected and 'inexperienced' I have led thus far.
It also made me feel not sorry but just much more aware of all those people I know who may lead an exhilarating but all in all unhealthy and unhappy lifestyle (which I foolishly covet at times). And these are young people who quite literally have the rest of their lives in front of them. There is nothing glamorous about spending one's days slave to the drink, waking up in unknown places, surrounded by violence, and even worse, expecting the violence, the heartache, the pain, and misery.
I refuse to believe that life is supposed to be like that; life is only what one makes it out to be. Call me an optimist, but don't you dare to call yourself a fucking realist.
Read the afterword and discuss it with me. I've gotten to the point where I'm so frustrated that I can't bother with even trying to articulate my thoughts into a comprehensible argument.
I might write a book review like I had orginally set out to do later. No promises.
Oh and I should mention that there is someone in particular that has incurred the frustration. He doesn't know. Nor does he know I care. I don't know if he cares that I care.
New Doctor...Ugh
His name is Matt Smith (don't like his name; I mean the only way his name can get more fucking generic would be if his given name were John - a much lovelier name than Matt anyday). He's British, not a Scotsman acting British (meaning he's already not as impressive). His accent is super posh (as in too posh). He looks young (can you say novice???) He's a hipster (highly inappropriate in the real world).
I currently have a hard time fantasizing about him stealing me away in the TARDIS and whisking me off to 666 BC, where we would fight invading alien creatures or some shizz like that. Only time can and will tell what this feeling will progress into.
Oh and apparently Catherine Zeta Jones was up for the role! How fucking fantasic would that have been?!?! The first female doctor and a fabulous and most gorgeous one at that.
I currently have a hard time fantasizing about him stealing me away in the TARDIS and whisking me off to 666 BC, where we would fight invading alien creatures or some shizz like that. Only time can and will tell what this feeling will progress into.
Oh and apparently Catherine Zeta Jones was up for the role! How fucking fantasic would that have been?!?! The first female doctor and a fabulous and most gorgeous one at that.
My Current Music Obsession
Kings of Leon. So fucking good. The offspring of Modest Mouse and Bob Dylan (for who they apparently opened for when they first started...)
('Stache Ride!)
And not just that one single of theirs that everyone kind of knows, "Sex on Fire." Don't get me wrong, aforementioned song is pretty damn good, but almost everything on their last two albums is pretty amazing.
They're scheduled to be in Christchurch sometime in March; I'm crossing my fingers that I'll be able to go see them. It's only a six hour drive...
('Stache Ride!)
And not just that one single of theirs that everyone kind of knows, "Sex on Fire." Don't get me wrong, aforementioned song is pretty damn good, but almost everything on their last two albums is pretty amazing.
They're scheduled to be in Christchurch sometime in March; I'm crossing my fingers that I'll be able to go see them. It's only a six hour drive...
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