The Cliffs of Insanity

Between what?

Between web work and fretting, that's what.

Wellll, technically, it's not web work. Phade's doing that, just like the web developer did for the original Shriekback.com, but I'm doing a good bit of the writing. The Joker Blogs bio I'd already pieced together, so that's already good to go. No, it's not a bio of the actor, it's a bio of how the Blogs got started. Now, I'm onto writing the intros for each episode's script, which are going to be made available on the site. I was actually asked if that would be something of interest to put up on the site. ::boggle:: With all the clamouring I've heard about those scripts, I figured that'd be the first thing that should go up on a Joker Blogs website! I just never thought I'd be the one helping get them up and available to everyone. While Phade and I do that, chatting as needed to help synchronise our efforts, the new moderators of the Joker Blogs forums have been left to be eaten by the angry mob that is Blog Boy's fan base. Little did they know I was choosing them for a certain death. No, seriously (yeah!), they're doing a great job, and allowing me to do another job which I hope will measure up. Many props to them.

Now, for the fretting. As 12 July draws ever closer, I'm starting to cry in my beer a little bit about the invitation from Johnette out to the LA gig. Not that I have any beer but, I swear, I may buy a shit load on 12 July and just get smashed as hell. No, I'm gonna buy liquor and cry in that. I'm gonna drown my sorrows starting about the time the music begins to play out west. It sucks to have no money, kids. I don't recommend it. Not..One..Bit.. So, all that said, have some lyrics. This is the first Concrete Blonde song I ever heard and it's still a special favourite. Ironically, Johnette sings about Los Angeles. Who'da thought?

Roses Grow by Concrete Blonde
L.A
Who'da thought
Right smack dab in the middle of what
With the belching buses
And broken bones
DEVIL POUR ME ANOTHER SHOT
Hey, hey
L.A.
Who'da thought

L.A.
After closing when it's down to me
And the same old souls
Well Johnny's all right if you buy him a gin
He'll tell you his stories about Errol Flynn
He even danced with Marilyn!
No way!
Thats what they say
DEVIL POUR ME ANOTHER SHOT!
Hey, hey
L.A.
Who'da thought

Up through the cracks
Up through the broken glass
In the hot red light of a black and white
Roses grow

Roxy is in tonight
She's styling around in her fishnet tights
And she's got more life at 65
Than the teenage boys she keeps up all night
Heavy metal
Young hard cock
What, can't you handle that kind of talk?
The strippers here they really rock
DEVIL POUR ME ANOTHER SHOT
Hey, hey
L.A.
Who'da thought

Up through the cracks
Up through the broken glass
In the hot red light of a black and white
Roses grow
Up through the glass (Up through the glass)
Up through the broken glass (Up through the broken glass)
In the hot red light of a black and white (In the hot red of a black and white)
Roses grow
Roses grow
Roses grow
Roses grow....

Okay, now that I'm done sniveling, it's back to work for me!

Inside/Outside by Concrete Blonde

what I feel inside,
sometimes is hard to get out.
lost in translation
what I'm thinking about.

the voices inside...
I believe when I hear
they come from somewhere
between my heart & my ear...

INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.
INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.
INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.

here on the inside
there's a war going on
with what's on the outside
where I don't think I belong.

when I go outside
it's all so crazy out there
I like it inside
it's so much safer in here.

INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.
INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.
INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.

if you could turn yourself
turn yourself inside out
what would I see then?
what would you be all about?

who's on the inside?
behind the cheap paper face
some other someone
is slowly taking your place.

INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.
INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.
INSIDE vs.
OUTSIDE.

This has been on my J-tunes for some time because of it's Blues-y vibe. In my fanfictions, J loves his tunes and the Blues is one of his favourite genres. For a week or so, though, I've just been laughing my ass off at how appropriate the song became. Johnette Napolitano, the one who wrote this ditty, has always been and will always be an artistic genius. And I don't say this lightly, and it won't be the first time I've said it. Aunt Tudi can vouch for me when I swear I've said this hundreds of times over the years: I'd sell my soul to the devil to be able to sing like Johnette. Now go download this song. That is all.

100 Games of Solitaire by Concrete Blonde

I got a bag all packed got a ticket for the train
Mexico to New Orleans and back again
I got a bottle of tequila baby, who needs friends?
I got a bottle of tequila baby, who needs friends?
I got a 100 miles of desert, got a head of fresh air
And I know 100 games of solitaire

I got nothing to lose and I got nothing to do
I can go anywhere with anyone I choose
I got a dog named Lucky and a hundred dollars in my shoe
Here I am on my way from here to there
And I know 100 games of solitaire

Well I don't where I'll end up tonight
Any place with a bar and bath tub's all right
I got a burnin' yearnin' for some new sounds and smells and sights
And I never see your face again, well I don't care
And I know 100 games of solitaire.