I’m back! Jeez, what a trip. More transportation hassles… what a surprise. This time I sat at SFO trying to get home while they, “Repaired the backup computer that controls pitch and yaw.” I have no problem waiting for such a repair.
News from Tuesday West:
Perched high atop a hill, Todd and Josh have set themselves up with a spectacular view of the financial district and PacBell stadium. I was thinking as I was driving straight up, “If San Francisco got even an inch of snow, the city would be paralyzed.” The town is completely ludicrous from the standpoint of snow. I mean, in a storm, not even the most trained sherpas would try to get up those hills.
In other news, the average rent for a one bedroom place in SF is $2000. Yikes! Todd was showing me horrid little shacks that are going for $1 million plus. Simply, that’s nuts.
Oh… the subject of the email? Strange ‘eh? I have a few country-western songs I am thinking of writing. “You’re the dirty that I know” stems from going out with friends on mine in San Francisco. Kelly was attempting not to touch the bus we were in and instead insisted one clinging to Jon causing the two of them to flail about. When asked why she was doing that, she said the bus was dirty. Jon said he was dirty too. Kelly stated that he was the dirty she knew. I liked that.
So the song is a girl singing to her recently ex’ed boyfriend on his answering machine. The basic gist she sings is, “You don’t have a job. You’re unkempt. You’re a lay-about. You don’t really shower. You’re dirty, but, having seen what’s out there, you’re the one I want. You’re the dirty that I know.”
There’s a second song I have in development too. It’s called, “I’m a dog in a bar (What’s it to ya?!)” Inspired by a man and his pit bull in a bar. The dog came on in and looked around as if to say, “Yeah, I’m a dog in a bar. What’s it to ya?” The main chorus to the song goes:
I’m not neutered.
I’m not spayed.
I’m a dog in a bar.
What’s it to ya?