...
Well, today sucks. I just got 2 more heavy a** books. On top of that, my locker is jammed and I just decided to use it. It was jammed before I even touched it. This sucks. So I walk around with 30 - 40 pounds on my shoulder while having about 5 - 10 pounds in my arms. My shoulder is going to give out before the week is over.
I also watched "Listening To You: The Who At The Isle Of Wight" again. I like to think that Pete is staring at Roger's a**. In a lot of pictures I see, it does look like he is staring a lot. But it's okay, because that's the way I like. way it looks to me. I also do plan on calculating all of those concert movie I have watched millions of times. I end up doing that.
But since I haven't said anything about it for a while... I WANT THAT MOVIE. OH GOD, THIS IS TEARING ME APART. EVERY MOLECULE OF MY SOUL IS BEING DESTROYED. SFSDTGSGSTFSFMZM!!!!!!!!!1111!111ELEVEN!!!
Performance. Every time I see that movie being on the internet, part of me curls up and just mourns because I haven't seen it yet. Oh, the uncool part of not having any money. No money for me.
But I also have a Pete Townshend/Mick Jagger thing lying around on my note pad on the computer. I ended up typing it up because I had to get that out of my mind. It kept pestering me till I put it out on paper, or in this case, typed up. Takes place a day before and on the day of rehearsing for the R'N'RC in 1968. But, I feel as though I need to go over that and I need to though I need to check it and read it. To me, it sorta looks and feel like I didn't write it. But, I should probably finish typing it out. But not right now, because I don't feel like it or I'll get caught up in it and forget that I have school the following morning.
I also, again, need some Stones fiction. I'm not all THAT great at stories, but when I want to, I can produce a bitchin' story if I'm not constantly being distracted almost all the time. Right now, sleep is trying to creep into my mind and eyes. I can feel it at the edge of my eyes. But for now, I have been focusing on a few things these past few weeks:
Taking Woodstock (movie)
Performance (movie)
Robert Plant's upcoming birthday
Keith Richards/Mick Jagger fantasies
Lennon/Jagger/Harrison threesome (Mick takes it all)
Woodstock: Then and Now (movie/documentary)
Lasagna
Gimme Shelter and Brown Sugar (songs by The Rolling Stones)
The first line of "Mother's Little Helper" (also a Rolling Stones song)
Full Metal Jacket quotes (that movie is funny as hell)
Jimmy Page/Robert Plant/Jeff Beck love triangle
ROTC's journal topics
That would be the major things about this week. But mostly Lennon/Jagger/Harrison and Lennon/Jagger. I've been writing on that. Plus, I still like to think Pete stares at Roger's a** a lot.
I still would like to see Keith shag Mick so hard, his back will be broke and they tore a hole in the space tome continuum. I also believe that the Stones wished for eternal life, they just forgot one small little detail: Eternal youth. So when the Rolling Stones are 100 years old, then I will be like, 75 or so.
I also have an expert of something I wrote
3:42am
Pete glared at the clock. It's red letters projecting itself out in the darkness of the room. The clock seemingly glaring black, red letters threatening to stop.
3:43am.
Pete continued to glare at the clock like it had shot and killed his mum. Pete sighed to himself. Letting the air in his lungs filter out into the darkness that was wrapped around the room and was willing to swallow anything that had stepped in. Pete rolled over in his bed for probably the 5th time that hour, hearing the groan and squeak of the mattress his body was occupying. Shifting till he was comfortable in what seemed to be like an endless uncomfortable silence, he settled into just turning onto his back. Pete stared at the dull white ceiling that was illuminated be the street lights that had seemed to ooze through the curtains that had been shut.
He briefly wondered what the bill to that hotel would be, seeing as the Keith would never leave a hotel in some form of shape of destruction. He targeted the toilets a lot for that matter and amusingly wondered to himself if they would be banned from that hotel. John would likely not do anything, nor Roger unless provoked. But Keith was a madman when getting a hold of some type of object that could used to destroy something.
That's what I have in there. It's not the only part. But there's a feeling that I didn't write it. Plus, it's the only part I feel like posting.
I have "Honky Tonk Woman" by The Rolling Stones. On repeat. Again.
