Talk about your day thread

[Chris_H_2]

i'm really surprised aussies don't have a weird name for golf.

[spike]

i'm really surprised aussies don't have a weird name for golf.

“Having a hit of golf” is getting there.

[VinylGuy]

its so fucking hot right now...the world is indeed melting. Ill be in europe in june and its just too much summer in this conditions.

[BurtReynolds]

Hoping for a last minute Day After Tomorrow type event.

[Jorge]

its so fucking hot right now...the world is indeed melting. Ill be in europe in june and its just too much summer in this conditions.

Because I'm an idiot, I'm baking empanadas right now. My apartment is a portal to hell

[Ello Sailor]

[Ello Sailor]

I was at the gas station for all of fifteen seconds, which was long enough to hear the chorus to "Moves Like Jagger".

I hate that song so fucking much.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

I was at the gas station for all of fifteen seconds, which was long enough to hear the chorus to "Moves Like Jagger".

I hate that song so fucking much.

Oh man, me too.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Ello Sailor]

Go to hell, honestly.

[Jorge]

You can come through my apartment

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[bodysnatcher]

You can come through my apartment

Lol

[Ello Sailor]

My favorite thing is how the pumping synth isn’t tightly quantized. If you listen close, there’s some variability to its attack that suggests it’s a live performance.

Also Aguilera sounds fantastic, and her line about “if I share my secret…” always feels titillating.

Finally, it’s such a weird mish-mash of sounds: The kick and synth are right out of Ibiza 2005, while the whistled hook is a throwback to 50s pop radio. Then there’s the funky 70s guitar licks. It’s a wildly creative pop song.

Shut the hell up.

[Jorge]

Wait you're telling me this pop song has funk guitar?!

[bodysnatcher]

I haven’t heard that song in so long I sorta forget what it sounds like. Can’t decide if I should listen to it tonight and weigh in with my opinion, or continue to live in this wonderland

[dad]

Is it still hot in your apartment, Jorge?

[Jorge]

No because I am no longer baking and also I turned the AC on

[VinylGuy]

its so fucking hot right now...the world is indeed melting. Ill be in europe in june and its just too much summer in this conditions.

Because I'm an idiot, I'm baking empanadas right now. My apartment is a portal to hell

I hope they were good at least.

[VinylGuy]

Also, you guys that have summer coming in your countries …prepare to hell.