how I roll
Here's a tribal shaman magic swimming pool dance that you should probably look at.
It inspired me to write "a poem".
When I Grow Up
When I grow up
I want to be a maniac
a maniac
on the dance floor.
---
I was walking on 6th avenue the other day when I saw this magazine cover in a window:
I know the words are a little hard to make out, but I'll transcribe for you:
"ZOMG ICELAND YOU CAN DO IT!"
"preserve your genes! you guys are all, like, so hot! zomg!"
"use your hotness to make people like you!"
"make music! you guys are like totally good at that! making music is so cute! people like music! people like cuteness!"
"there's nothing wrong with just fishing and knitting you guys! that is like so totally cute also!"
I wasn't sure whether to be offended or entertained. But what can I say. I'm pretty cute, I have two of those sweaters and I make music.
speaking of. feather and folly are playing a show tonight.
I am trying to not fail at life. I mostly want to go home. And look at the wall. And look at the television. And eat food all the time. And not communicate. And be completely useless.
But I don't know what will happen.
I want to write about things on this blog all the time, fun things maybe, but then I think "no you are failing at life you don't have time to blog".
That's how I roll.
It inspired me to write "a poem".
When I Grow Up
When I grow up
I want to be a maniac
a maniac
on the dance floor.
---
I was walking on 6th avenue the other day when I saw this magazine cover in a window:
I know the words are a little hard to make out, but I'll transcribe for you:
"ZOMG ICELAND YOU CAN DO IT!"
"preserve your genes! you guys are all, like, so hot! zomg!"
"use your hotness to make people like you!"
"make music! you guys are like totally good at that! making music is so cute! people like music! people like cuteness!"
"there's nothing wrong with just fishing and knitting you guys! that is like so totally cute also!"
I wasn't sure whether to be offended or entertained. But what can I say. I'm pretty cute, I have two of those sweaters and I make music.
speaking of. feather and folly are playing a show tonight.
I am trying to not fail at life. I mostly want to go home. And look at the wall. And look at the television. And eat food all the time. And not communicate. And be completely useless.
But I don't know what will happen.
I want to write about things on this blog all the time, fun things maybe, but then I think "no you are failing at life you don't have time to blog".
That's how I roll.
Labels: fail, icelandic people, music, poetry
posted by Júlía at
1:51 PM
4 Comments:
hah ég sá einhvern gaur með þetta blað á kaffihúsi hérna í Glasgow...
skrifaðu meira á bloggið þitt.. það er gaman!
x b
ást.
-Hraphildur
In general I'm against the burning of printed matter, but I have that issue of Monocle and its Iceland article is one of the more shockingly backward and awful things I've read in a while. It basically suggests Iceland transform itself into a living museum where drunk European tourists can come watch cute blonde Icelandic girls gut fish and knit sweaters, before they fuck them. Or maybe watch them play cute music, before they fuck them. The article's writer didn't seem to think there was anything negative or offensive about suggesting a country go this route.
On another note, I can't stop watching the Fever Ray video. It's O M G.
(I can totally see Karin Dreijer Andersson burning the Monocle article.)
Moncole is a great publication.
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