Balls of Rice

Category: Uncategorized

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  • Descendents – Thank You

    From the album “Everything Sucks”

    I listen to you for hours, I’ll listen all day
    Just keep hitting me the right way
    Sing your song in the shower
    Cause you got a way
    To say what I can never say right – right on
    When I feel weak you make me feel strong
    Make me feel strong

    I won’t say your name
    But you know who you are
    I’ll never be the same again now – no way
    I just want to say
    Thank you for playing the way you play

    You don’t get played on the radio
    That’s not the game you play
    Well I don’t care anyway
    I glued your tape in the stereo
    So I know every word, every note
    And every chord is right – right on
    When I feel weak you make me feel strong
    Make me feel strong feel like nothing’s wrong

    I won’t say your name
    You know who you are
    I’ll never be the same again now – no way
    I just want to say thank you for playing the
    Way you play

    Did you know you’re why I go
    And waste my time
    At a rock and roll show
    You let me know I’m not alone
    You make me feel strong, make me feel strong,
    Feel like nothing’s wrong

    I won’t say your name, you know who you are
    I’ll never be the same again now – no way
    I just want to say
    Thank you for playing the way you play
    Thank you for playing the way you play
    Thank you for playing the way you play


  • The Night of the Living Rachel Bilson


    The entertainment business owns the world. It is a multi billion dollar industry. It is a single mother of four, with two jobs and a casual marijuana addiction. It is an icy road with a slippery slope. It owns.

    Music and movies and Internet and TV and sports and iPods and cell phones and books and underwear and travel and food are all made to entertain you and very often rarely seldom barely do much good for your body’s well being or the well being of the endangered tropical polar bear or the well being of the poor or the well being of your city’s roads. They are there to give you something to do between work and sleep. They are there to make money, but can be there to change ideas, or inform idiots. But mostly to make money. This passage is even written to give you something to do while you are doing your online friend networking, or are just sadly checking blogs as the last thing you can think of to do to entertain you. And maybe it will change ideas and inform idiots.

    Every one thousand songs you might find one that was written sincerely, or every one million movies you might find one scene that was written with decent intent. When you do, it is special, different than the rest, and refreshing. It can be real.

    The other night we stayed up until 630am watching a zombie movie (incredible) and a girly movie (incredible). Though neither stuck out to me at all as being entertainment with a positive alterior motive (don’t shoot shotguns at gas pumps) or with any purpose or motive (don’t impregnate someone you don’t want to have a child with), Rachel Bilson put it this way…

    “Everyone I know is having a crisis. I know you’re not supposed to get them until midlife, but I think something is happening to our metabolism… I mean the world is moving so fast now, we are all chasing something so fast that we start freaking out long before our parents did…’Cause we don’t ever stop to breathe any more. You gotta remember to breathe or you’ll die. “

    And she changed my life. I would always choose the not pregnant free spirited college girl. ALWAYS.

  • I was sitting under the sun, with the hum turning to roar of the bar, listening to testamonies about Saskatoon nachos when I started thinking. The left side, top and bottom, of everything I saw, hurt. Probably the undoubted inaudible noise of Sneaky Dees. It was impossible to love it all, but even less possible to not love it all. Friends I’ve had for only hours are the most familiar faces. I was off so far away, I thought, that my nachos tasted like rice, poutine and icebergs. But the nachos were knock out. I tried so hard to come up with something I had a problem with that I started to have a problem with nothing. Writing needs angst, serious conflict, at least mine does. All I realize is that I’m cynical for a twenty year old, like I’ve seen things before. When really life is good, I’ve seen very little, and new friends are refreshing and exhausting.

    Good night. Halal.

  • The Versus Series: Water vs. Rock

    Water. Moveable and light. Fills what needs to be filled, cleans what needs to be cleaned. The universal. Everywhere but still rare. Living, changing, running and supporting.

    vs

    Rock. Immovable and heavy. Dense and unyielding, it can only be worn down or chipped off. Everywhere, not rare, and not of real value. Dead, stagnant, and useless.

    Winner: I’d rather be water.

  • The Road.



    In PEI. What a weird world this province is. We (I) got a flat tire on the trailer in Quebec City last night. Hours and hours past, tow trucks neglected to fulfill their duties, languages were not shared. Then a straight drive to the East coast. Then watched history made on live tv.
    Go riders.

  • Visions Electronics

    I get visions sometimes. Of metaphoric scenes, or nature explaining my life better than I can. I also have dreams, which are sometimes the same but in a different, less sensical medium. Listening to Bon Iver for the first time, midnight, post metal show, in the van, this is what I got.

    A white stone slab, one foot by one foot by one foot, connected to a cave, in a cave, but seperated by light. Like canvas but less useful, ready for etching, painting, Crayolas, pencil. Something that stands out but still shows the white slab.

    Could mean a few things, could mean nothing. In my old age, metaphors have become more true and often, especially when I stay up past ten. In this period I’m in, I’ll take the most obscure thing to point the direction, because usually the most unobscure things ain’t worth a dime.

  • The ‘Nice Beards / You Look Like the Drummer from A Textbook Tragedy’ Farewell Unity Tour

    Tour is rad. The USA is bad. There are so many awful American delights I have never experienced and I’m one of those guys that has to try new things(has little to no self control) or my head collapses/explodes. Breaded and deep fried Mac and Cheese, butter burgers, every kind of Arizona Iced Tea created, Salted nut rolls, PayDays, twisty Fritos. I’m a poor man becoming poorer, and this time it is not the fault of a conservative government. But I did get $30 tips last night. Waitresses have got it easy.

    Waterslides are inevitable. Montreal is looming. Dreaming about a serious tennis faceoff between Obama and I and McCain and some young Asian girl. Everything was a joke to McCain.
    New possible living destinations try to sell themselves to me. As I try to not get too excited about things, and write up essays of possibilities for the unknown.

    But here, you be the judge.Yes or No

  • The Real Election

                    

    I’ll be the first to say that I don’t know everything about politics, but I have been trying. I’d rather laugh at politicians than get angry and upset. The Canadian politicians and McCain were way easier to make fun of. Obama is somewhat dry.
    Here’s more…

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