Made by my head
Music, Ireland. Grey, name. My name. A step ladder. This house was built in a bog. Music is the window. I fell off a step ladder.





Saturday, December 24, 2005

 

Music. Rory Gallagher.


Roses (I'm pointing at roses). See, I didn't forget your birthday (I'm ducking to avoid the plates she's throwing into the air).


I played the piano, but I couldn't concentrate because four Sherpas were staring at me. She didn't like the way I was playing and she threw another plate, but I ducked. It hit one of the Sherpas and knocked him unconscious. It wasn't any easier to play the piano with just three Sherpas staring at me.


Man: Rory Gallagher.

Album: Irish Tour.


Website:

http://www.rorygallagher.com/


He made most other guitarists sound as if they were only playing to impress a woman who comes from a culture where music is created using weasels.


Santa and his Seven Dwarves are in the back garden. He got the dwarves a trampoline and a sand glass for Christmas. He says to one of them, "I want you to bounce up and down on your head on the trampoline with the sand glass in your hand, so the sand will drop to the other end, rather than just turning the sand glass over." I think he's confused.




He shoots, he scores, he glues himself to a lilac tree. Let's kick him.

A walk in the rain - Poetry. Ireland. Reading the news with no trousers.
Very Slight Stories - Very short stories.
Henry Seaward-Shannon - Slightly longer short-stories.






More blogs about music.

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