Che sera sera

I'd compose more, perhaps take some more performance classes, and start my own record label to release my compositions. If money were not an issue, I'd also sponsor other musicians whose music I admire on my label - somewhat like Peter Gabriel's Real World studios does.

I say I'd compose *more* because I do compose now when I have the time, but not as much as I'd like, and not in the scope I'd like, either. Also, I don't have the recording hardware I'd like to have to really record my stuff properly.

Fame and acceptance isn't really the issue, I'd just like to be able to hear my stuff as I already hear it in my head, and hold some kind of finished "product" in my hot little hands.

I'd also love to just be able to perform with other musicians - not so much have a "band" as just have the ability to "jam" whenever the mood strikes me.

 

You'd think you'd have learned your lesson after the last time you tried to experience the amalgam of joy and horror that is the boon and bane of my "hot little hands."

What, with the huge pile of twitching, half-dead chihuahuas we left in the wake of our impassioned, slightly-deranged love - I would have thought that alone would have dissuaded you from ever venturing forth into the utter terror that is the Windmills/Darkunderlord coupling phenomenon.

I mean, I'm STILL getting court subpoenas from the Velveeta Cheese company, wanting to settle the account for the destruction we caused to their factory during our last little foray. Not to mention unsettling, heavy-breath phonecalls in the middle of the night by one "Captain Winkypants" who keeps demanding to have his Zamboni returned to him.

 

Like I was saying, we need to get Windmills a webcam so she can show us her "hot little hands" in action.

 

I like angel food cake too. My granda makes it great, especially with the frosting she uses (YUM!). Anyway, I would probably do what I said, or try to open a buisness like Microsoft (or just work for it).

 

Did you ever manage to get all that goo out of the gears, though? I can't imagine why you're so attached to a zamboni that doesn't even work properly. I think there are still chihuahuas stuck in the engine. Every time you turn the damn thing on, I hear some Godawful yelping, followed by a loud *thwak* and then chihuahua gore everywhere.

I don't blame them for crawling up in there, considering the sights they were witness to that fateful day. The things you did with the spatulas and the Astroglide...tsk...Uncle Spanky still has nightmares.[/i]

 

I would train as a Geisha. It's something I've always wanted to do.