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This song was sent to me by a friend. It is a Windir cover, done by Weh. I find it haunting.
The lyrics are as follows:
Windir - Likbør
Bondn før oppstaobeel aolaina han for, ottamaole ra va å aovabøre sto.
utn styvingen fø i huga han va, sjao jite budkapen pao Flo.
Fram om Flatadn han komen va, ai bøsele folkafer han skimta.
Ittekårt dao han skjøna ke so va pao fere,
hildt han seg fø bringao å ba ti vaor Herre.
Ai likbør va pao veg.
Bondn ondrast ken følgje fø va, dao børi kom nerare fekk han svar.
Oppi kjistao laog grandn sin far, likblainke, velstelde, daue han va.
Bondn taig om dinna hiska hendingi, skolde verkle dauen ta grandn sin far?
To nete gjikk å bondn fekk svar,
fø ve kvelda feetabeel henta dauen grandn sin far.
Likbøri stemde. Faren va daue.
The Farmer went up the mountain, alone he went. He went up far to get the overlook. He remembered where the animals (crop?) were, but they were no where to be seen. Down by the fields, he could see a large line of people.
When he understood what was happening, he took to his chest and did pray to the Lord.
A Funeral Procession was underway.
The Farmer wondered who's procession it was, and as he made his way down he found out.
In the coffin lay his neighbors father, pale, -well made up-, totally dead.
The Farmer kept silent about this incident, would Death really take his neighbors father?
To nights passed, and the Farmer got the word.
The procession was true, the father was dead.
Long Snake Moan, by PJ Harvey
Um-hmmm
Dunk you under
Deep salt water
Bring me lover
All your power
I'll be no hell
Out of your spell
Over
Under
Die of pleasure
Hear my dreaming
You'll be drowning
Hell's no god above
All drunk on my love
You oughtta hear my long snake
Moan!
You oughtta see me crawl my
Moan!
Dunk you under
Deep salt water
In my dreaming
You'll be drowning
Raise me up lord
Call me lazarus
Hey lord
Help me
Make me my fail
You oughtta hear my long snake
Moan!
You oughtta see me crawl my...
Moan!
It's my voodoo working
It's my voodoo working
It's my voodoo working
It's my voodoo working
Moan!
Moan!
Moan!
Moan!
Woo!
Moan!
Moan!
Moan!
I knew I had a big butt, but JEEZ!
Barbie Got Back! Go you! You're the closest thing ever to a true black Barbie. Shake that fat ass of yours!
If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?
brought to you by Quizilla
I like words.
No, I love words.
However, I am starting to loathe the word "chav."
It shows a marked lack of intellect to lump "everyone not like me, wah!" into one word group.
So general. So lazy. And I usually see people who "hate labels" labelling others like this.
I want to scream, "Shut up you hypocritical whiny little mewling turds from very sick animals!"
But I end up just saying, "Right-o" with a sarcastic lilt.
My birthday weekend. Need I say more? Ok, I shall. Since you all pleaded so gracefully. *snort* (Oh, a funny story about a snort later.)
A birthday is a day to reflect upon the past year, and years, and to reflect upon the coming year and years, that is what the purpose of a birthday is.
It's a time to reflect where you have been, where you are, and where you wish to go.
I have so much that is beautiful in my life right now. I got to listen to Jackson's heartbeat on my birthday. It sounded fluttery and whooshy and excited, like he was ready to see what this bright full world may have to offer him.
Khay and I got pedicures on my birthday, and I got to thoroughly spoil that beautiful woman this weekend. She cooked something marvelous for me involving shrimp, pasta, garlic and numminess. I watched pretty woman for the first time - ever - this weekend.
We also went to see "A history of violence." Good movie. Go see it. This is where the funny snort story comes in.
We go into the theater (my first time in one in YEARS) and grab our seats. Not crowded, loveliness. Eventually, these two young adult males sit right the heck in front of her. No obnoxiousness ensues. Yet. *innocent whistle*
She and I kept giggling at seemingly inappropriate or serious moments. I'm sorry, though. Some of those moments were damn funny. Neither of us is sure exactly what that says about our psyches.
"How do you fuck that up?!" *incredulous kicking*
hehehehehe
I muttered (I thought softly enough that only Khayman could hear) that a certain character needed to sing "West Side Story's" "I feel pretty," in response to an "anger management" quip on her behalf. I may have even hummed a bar. I don't remember. Maybe not. I may have thought it.
I made me giggle (not difficult to do). Turns out, the two cats in front of us heard me. They giggled. Khay is giggling. It made me laugh harder, evil chain ensues of giggling, when all the while brother man on the screen is being all vicious and serious-like.
I vapor locked on a giggle and snorted.
It set the four of us off more.
We all got shooshed.
My first movie theater in I don't know how many years, and I cause shooshes.
How ... rude ... of me.
Anyhoo.
Sushi, Kensai, movie sign, pretty feet, good company, baby heartbeat and acrobatics, fat cat belly loving, Virginia rainstorms, snorting in public, cupcakes, ballons, an Edgar Alan Poe bobble head (Holy SHIT IT ROCKS!) and getting naked with the office potted plant. I'll explain that later. It involves dice and firing the I.T. guy, while making up a rumour about the office nerd.
Oh. And damn cute fuzzy socks. I like weird socks. I scored on those. Black and orange striped fuzzy chenille knee socks.
How cool is that?
Now, I go nini. =)
She taught me something I am planning on abusing.
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That's the good news.
The bad news is that my little suitcase bit the big one.
So. I packed my larger suitcase.
Do you have any idea what that means when a woman packs?
*sigh*
Heh.
I *did* pack Khay a prezzie. *huge grin*
She's gonna dig it. =)
I hope I can sleep. I never can before flying and/or going to see friends.
In approximately 25.25 hours I will be on Virginian soil.
I will see Khay, that beautiful woman, and I am so excited I could pee my pants.
If I didn't have excellent bladder control.
And hadn't already peed 47 times today because I drank too much water.
Heh.
I went to my tattoo session yesterday. Owie, hunky-dory, heading home fat and happy and stinging.
Lo and behold.
Two drunk and racing teenagers caused a four car accident, their two plus a Cadillac and a minivan. Right in front of me. I damn near turned the Isuzu over trying to avoid the accident. I called 911 and then went to check on people.
The two teenagers were fine, their cars were not, some sporty things, one red one blue.
The older couple in the newer Cadillac, they were not fine. They were gone by the time I got to their car. No pulse. Don't worry, no gory descriptions here.
There was nothing I could do for the driver of the minivan but hold her hand while she cried and listen. I don't know how to put innards back in. She wanted me to tell her husband she loved him and to kiss her daughter for her. I told her to hold on that the ambulance would be here soon, very very soon. She just smiled sort of and stopped. While I held her hand.
I am not sure whether I'll be up on assault charges or not.
I broke both teenage drivers' hands rather thoroughly and slapped them three times each.
I went to the hospital.
I met the woman's husband. Her name was Amelia. She had pretty black hair. Her husband looked ... blank. Her daughter was lovely.
I came home.
I got very very drunk, very very quickly.
That will teach me to be worried about the safety of someone I actively dislike.
Meh.
Express genuine relief at their safety, and be ignored completely.
It makes me want to be petty and take back my wishes for safety and turn them ugly.
Almost.
I like to think I am better than that person I become from time to time. It takes effort. Especially when things like that happen.
Holy crap. How did it get to be October already?
My birthday is this coming Friday. Thirty-three. I hope it will be an interesting year.
I am going to get to see Khayman in four days, with her lovely self and beautiful baby belly. I am very excited about that. :) Possibility exists for hanging out with another VR resident for drinks and the odd discussion. We shall see how that pans out. I like meeting folks who pique my interest. Not many do.
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