Always Comes Unglued

December 17, 2008

EFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.  I broke one string while replacing them all on my guitar, so now I have to go and buy a whole new mother eeeeeeeeeeeeeeffffffffffffffffffing set.  On top of that, the fret buzz is back.  ASGFNKVAEFNVJQNREALJVNERALERV.  NO MORE EXTRA LIGHT STRINGS.  Why is this week even remotely shitty, even though I’m not doing anything?  I need money.  Don’t we all?  If I had enough money to waste after spending it on necessary things and causes, which could hypothetically happen if I get lucky and win the lotto (four times perhaps), then I would buy myself a new non-crappy acoustic guitar, then a couple of shitty ones like the one I have now, and smash them against the wall, light them on fire, fill the inside with C4 and blow it up, etcetera, etcetera.  Odd how most humans’ innate reaction to anger is destruction and violence.  Oh yeah, and my tuner ran out of batteries.  Spiffy.  I wish I had perfect pitch.  And on that note (no pun intended), I’d also like to add that I wish I could sing.  Not even necessarily well; just so I don’t sound like those laughable contestants on American Idol.  Ok, maybe not that bad, I hope.

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