Dagens...
Humör: Taggad till tänderna!!!
Känsla: Det blir ingen slentriankväll ikväll, det blir goe, goe öööööset!
Fundering: Varför kan det inte vara fredag, halv fyra, oftare än det är?
Väder: Sol ute, sol inne, sol i hjärtat, sol i sinnet!
Mat: Goe pastaspiralerna med korvstroganoff på Kryddgrillare!
Bok: Brunos "Dimman av allt"
Låt: Eftersom skivan är bränd ser jag inga titlar i mediaplayer´n men bandet heter Volbeat och det är BRA TRYCK!
TV: Idolfinal sen, räcker så.
Bästa: Att vi blir goe gänget ikväll, inte bara det tre STORA, Quimmen, Midda och jag. Spetsar med en näve gubbar till!
Sämsta: Att det är åtta månader till Idol 2009.
Lyckliga stund: När jag upptäckte Volbeat här för en timme sen.
Klädsel: Uppvärmning i mörkblå raggsockar, svarta pumashorts, nyinköpt rockig t-shirt och rosa stickad mössa.
Frisyr: Nyklippt och fresh!
Shopping: Barrunda.
Puss & Kram: Fajsi & Farmor.
Löfte: Jag ska inte bråka ikväll, ens om Midda pekar på någon.
Saknad: Kryddgrillarna. Redan.
1. Dagens Mat.
2. Dagens Puss.
3. Dagens Lyckliga stund.
4. Dagens Klädsel.
sexy klädsel :)
Tips på en grymt bra låttext:
"She was the rose of Sharon from paradise lost,
From the city of seven hills near the place of the cross.
I was playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy.
Told about Jesus, told about the rain,
She told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain
By a man who invented iron and disappeared so mysteriously.
Was she a child or a woman, I can't say which
From one to another she could to easily switch
We went into the wall to where the long arm of the law could not reach.
Could I been used and played as a pawn?
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
Where men bathed in perfume and celebrated free speech.
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore
She said, "We got a mutual friend over by the door,
And you know he's got our best interest in mind."
He was well connected but her heart was a snare
And she had left him to die in there,
There were payments due and he was a little behind.
The cry of the peacock, flies buzz my head,
Ceiling fan broken, there's a heat in my bed,
Street band playing "Nearer My God to Thee."
We met at the steeple where the mission bells ring,
She said, "I know what you're thinking, but there ain't a thing
You can do about it, so let us just agree to agree."
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
Atlantic City by the cold grey sea
I hear a voice crying, "Daddy," I always think it's for me,
But it's only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call.
Every new messenger brings evil report
'Bout armies on the march and time that is short
And famines and earthquakes and hatred written upon walls.
Would I have married her? I don't know, I suppose.
She had bells in her braids and they hung to her toes
But I kept hearing my name and I had to be movin' on.
I saw screws break loose, saw the devil pound tin,
I saw a house in the country being torn from within.
I heard my ancestors calling from the land far beyond.
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire."
Låten heter Caribbean Wind riktigt bra!
