Re: ~~quiet before warren haynes~~
messybear
location: Lunging gusts from deep in the heart of N/A disillusionment....
listening to: @l'sBU2; JW'sBU2; PJbootlegs; BGeldofMix; RWatersMix; Aussie Feast o’DVDs; Boomtwn •Triage XRuddMix
registered: 2005.11.13
HOLY SMOKES! That looks like a blowout, Blockdog. & it’s really cutting edge avant-garde of them to use the word “Christmas” in their title. Think of all the people they may (oooooooooooohh) be offending? It’s like they're pushing the envelope here in the 21st Century, ………virtually unheard of. …Sheez, balls of steel….that Warren Haynes. I can almost hear the Liberty Bell bonging back-&-forth in the din of counted sorrows…. The smell of sweet grass & cedar & white sage & tobacco & patchouli & mistletoe in the air; the sound of the drum circle & the hawkwind swirling from all four directions; waves upon waves of anarcho-syndicalism takin me away to my special place where the lumps on the head don't sting or pulse; ...talking feather passing from one philosopher to the other (all of us philosophy), the meaning of life in a circle jerk of open discussion; red, black, yellow, & white in gratis conversation, talk-talk, unwired and on the beat-not on the beat in the sunshine and beside the moonlight tides & sea turtle & dolphins on breakers breakin….
...........BLAM!
Oh…..hmm? …….Woe! …dreamin………again………………………
...a lota lumps
–--
intellectually masturbatin while the radio was playin
HOLY SMOKES! That looks like a blowout, Blockdog. & it’s really cutting edge avant-garde of them to use the word “Christmas” in their title. Think of all the people they may (oooooooooooohh) be offending? It’s like they're pushing the envelope here in the 21st Century, ………virtually unheard of. …Sheez, balls of steel….that Warren Haynes. I can almost hear the Liberty Bell bonging back-&-forth in the din of counted sorrows…. The smell of sweet grass & cedar & white sage & tobacco & patchouli & mistletoe in the air; the sound of the drum circle & the hawkwind swirling from all four directions; waves upon waves of anarcho-syndicalism takin me away to my special place where the lumps on the head don't sting or pulse; ...talking feather passing from one philosopher to the other (all of us philosophy), the meaning of life in a circle jerk of open discussion; red, black, yellow, & white in gratis conversation, talk-talk, unwired and on the beat-not on the beat in the sunshine and beside the moonlight tides & sea turtle & dolphins on breakers breakin….
...........BLAM!
Oh…..hmm? …….Woe! …dreamin………again………………………
...a lota lumps
–--
intellectually masturbatin while the radio was playin
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