That will be my song off this album, a traditional, fairly safe album for the band and nothing like the ridiculously heavy, risky Vice Verses. It's still a solid addition to the catalogue and I'm proud of them for continuing to work hard in spite of the pulls of home in the form of growing families splitting their loyalties into three alongside surfing and music. Ahhh. The life.
Maybe once I've had my usual four or five loud listens right through I'll give a real review but groceries, I need to go get them.)
Saltwater running through my veinsJacob's parents are here. Why? I think Caleb is trying to kill me while he thinks he's working hard constructing amends. I opened the front door and there were Jacob's eyes, palest blue, cabochon-set into experience and sorrow, bottomless pools of pain and hope and memory and I almost went to my fucking knees there on the hard tiles in the front hall but Jacob's mom held me up as they fussed over me and my stupid broken arm, heart and mind.
Like a blind spot
Like I got caught
Saltwater like a teardrop
With a salt water heart
A warning would have been appropriate. Who doesn't love things to look forward to? Apparently the Devil, that's who.
I need to feed them. Somehow the proliferation of beer and chicken burgers we keep on hand doesn't seem like a good idea. So we're leaving them to a grand tour courtesy of Daniel and Sam while PJ and John and I head out to the store.
Lochlan took off on New-Jake's bike earlier this morning and never came back. I tried to explain to him last night that nothing changes. It's being done in such a way that we pay little in extra taxes, and very very little of this is discretionary income anyway. Most of it is interest earned that is then rolled into something else to compound itself eventually into bricks of platinum or emeralds or something. If I really really want it I can get through but I would have to jump through hoops held by the bank and demonstrate significant hardship.
And as it turned out Caleb kept just enough to give himself a comfortable, well-padded existence and to keep full control of the point, or so I suspect from looking over the forms.
I expected no less, to tell you the truth. I knew he wouldn't give me the house or the land or fuck-all that would give me the upper hand. But he gave me a lot and with it I will build a time machine and if that fails then a reanimator and if all that fails, an automatic and painless labotomizer, and although Ben can suggest a bunch of those I'd like one that's permanent and not just day to day, traded for cash from some shady bastard in front of the mall.
But whatever. I need to go shopping. Bye.