the life and times of a pandroid

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhOc0V-ES40

If I was a girl I would probably say something like ’oh make love to me bob dylan’, but since I’m a heterosexual white male I’ll just say ‘damn nigga dis song be dope’.

Bob Dylan - I Want You

The guilty undertaker sighs,
The lonesome organ grinder cries,
The silver saxophones say I should refuse you.
The cracked bells and washed-out horns
Blow into my face with scorn,
But it’s not that way,
I wasn’t born to lose you.
I want you, I want you,
I want you so bad,
Honey, I want you.

The drunken politician leaps
Upon the street where mothers weep
And the saviors who are fast asleep,
They wait for you.
And I wait for them to interrupt
Me drinkin’ from my broken cup
And ask me to
Open up the gate for you.
I want you, I want you,
I want you so bad,
Honey, I want you.

Now all my fathers, they’ve gone down
True love they’ve been without it.
But all their daughters put me down
‘Cause I don’t think about it.

Well, I return to the Queen of Spades
And talk with my chambermaid.
She knows that I’m not afraid
To look at her.
She is good to me
And there’s nothing she doesn’t see.
She knows where I’d like to be
But it doesn’t matter.
I want you, I want you,
I want you so bad,
Honey, I want you.

Now your dancing child with his Chinese suit,
He spoke to me, I took his flute.
No, I wasn’t very cute to him,
Was I?
But I did it, though, because he lied
Because he took you for a ride
And because time was on his side
And because I . . .
I want you, I want you,
I want you so bad,
Honey, I want you.

As I write this, the 9th of July turns into the 10th, and I am suddenly a year older. 21… I have always liked that number, for some reason I don’t know.

It was a while since I wrote something with substance in this blog: I guess youtube links and incoherent ramblings about stuff doesn’t count to you but fuck you, this is my blog and I write whatever the fuck I want.

So, you might ask yourselves, has anything interesting happened in the life of pandroid? Well, I have quit my job, so I’m unemployed right now. But don’t feel sorry for me, I hated that fucking place. All the reasons that made me stay there are gone, and I came to the conclusion that I only stayed there to have someplace to go to. Now, finally free from that place, I can now try to get on with my life, to find something better. And you know, everything is better than ripping people of on the phone. Fuck telemarketing. Never again.

But I shouldn’t be like that. I have alot to thank that place for. Before my time there, I mostly sat at home infront of the computer, only going out to get out to buy cigarettes or drinking with a few friends. Or to smoke pot. But then I got a haircut and a job, and I got to know a lot of different and wonderful people. And that was nice, but now that time is over and honestly, I don’t miss it. It’s time to turn a new page.

Now I’m going to sleep, then party like a motherfucking rockstar.   

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpLeP7FSsVM

I’m feeling nostalgic tonight.

Ceasars - Over ‘fore it started

The summer is here, but I’m just sitting in my room
I’m sitting wondering if you think of me as I think of you
I’m lost without you, you don’t know what I’m gonna do

When I had you, well I won’t ever realize
Know I blew it, and I’ll never get another chance
Now the summer is here, and you’re with somebody else

Now that you’re gone, I don’t know if I can carry on
Sorry ’bout the things that I’ve done
I know that it was over ‘fore it started

I have got you’re number, but I haven’t got the guts to call
Know it’s up to me, but I just stare at the wall
Know it’s useless, I should just forget it all

When I was with you, I never took you seriously
When you told me you’d had it and that you would leave
I said that well baby, noones better of alone

Now that you’re gone, I don’t know if I can carry on
Sorry ’bout the things that I’ve done
I know that it was over ‘fore it started

The summer is here, but I’m just sitting in my room
I’m Sitting wondering if you think of me as I think of you
I’m lost without you, I don’t know what I’m gonna do

Now that you’re gone, I don’t know if I can carry on
Sorry ’bout the things that I’ve done
I know that it was over ‘fore it started

Now that you’re gone, I don’t know if I can carry on
Sorry ’bout the things that I’ve done
I know that it was over ‘fore it started
Over ‘fore it started
Over ‘fore it started
Over ‘fore it started

Fuck. You. Russia.

Man, I really get riled up about football.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1FHIP4mLxQ

I used to hate this song when it became a hit a couple of years ago, because I thought it was just some one hit wonder shit. Now I love it. Things change I guess.

Peter, Bjorn & John - Young Folks

If i told you things i did before
told you how i used to be
would you go along with someone like me
if you knew my story word for word
had all of my history
would you go along with someone like me

i did before and had my share
it didn’t lead nowhere
i would go along with someone like you
it doesn’t matter what you did
who you were hanging with
we could stick around and see this night through

and we don’t care about the young folks
talkin’ ’bout the young style
and we don’t care about the old folks
talkin’ ’bout the old style too
and we don’t care about their own faults
talkin’ ’bout our own style
all we care ’bout is talking
talking only me and you

usually when things has gone this far
people tend to disappear
no one will surprise me unless you do

i can tell there’s something goin’ on
hours seems to disappear
everyone is leaving i’m still with you

it doesn’t matter what we do
where we are going too
we can stick around and see this night through

and we don’t care about the young folks
talkin’ ’bout the young style
and we don’t care about the old folks
talkin’ ’bout the old style too
and we don’t care about their own faults
talkin’ ’bout our own style
all we care ’bout is talking
talking only me and you

and we don’t care about the young folks
talkin’ ’bout the young style
and we don’t care about the old folks
talkin’ ’bout the old style too
and we don’t care about their own faults
talkin’ ’bout our own style
all we care ’bout is talking
talking only me and you
talking only me and you

talking only me and you
talking only me and you

Euro Cup 2008 is really bad for my economy.

Where is my fucking tax refund?

Lot of of birthdays soon, ending with my own.

I’m trying to cut back on the smoking.

Great weather and late nights out makes that hard though.

I pretty gramatically incorrect right now.

That doesn’t mean I’m drunk though.

Or stupid.

Just indifferent.

Work sucks right now.

I need to get out of town for a while.

Maybe clear my head a bit.

Not that I’m depressed or anything.

But sometimes you just need some alone-time.

A hundred years of solitude, read it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LgB6QPU273Q

Why? Why not?

 Sebastien Tellier - L’amore et la violance

Dis-moi ce que tu penses
De ma vie
De mon adolescence

Dis-moi ce que tu penses
Moi j’aime aussi
L’amour et la violence

Almost a month. It’s been a while, to say the least. So, where have I been? Wait, that’s a stupid question. I’ve been busy with real life, real life problems and stuff. Work, friends and confusing relationships. As usual I’m broke, as usual I’m confused, as usual I refrain from doing things I need to do.

I have been spending a lot of time with a certain somebody, but the general feeling that we are to much friends to be anything else is always present, and she sometimes confuses me to no end. I have also started to talk to someone I thought I didn’t like anymore, and that makes me glad, because I have actually missed her somewhat, as a friend that is. I have rekindled some old friendships, which feels great because we rarely have time these days to see each other. And I have lost contact with some other old friends, and realised that we really don’t have anything in common anymore.

I turn 21 in about a month and a half. Somehow I feel old, like I have already reached my peak. Which is pure bullshit, but I guess that’s a common feeling for people like us in their early twenties. What the fuck are we supposed to do? The world is so big, and we are so small, and we don’t really know anything. Nothing at all.

Yet still.

We Are Here.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23PkA3G6NL8

My new favorite band right now.

The Last Shadow Puppets - My Mistakes Where Made For You

About as subtle as an earthquake, I know
My mistakes were made for you

And in the back room of a bad dream, she came
And whisked me away, enthused

And it’s solid as a rock rolling down a hill
The fact is that it probably will hit something
On the hazardous terrain

And were just following the flock, round
And the inbetween, before we smash to smithereens
Like they were, and we scrambled from the grain
And its the fame that put words in her mouth
She couldnt help, but spit em out
Innocence and arrogance intwined
In the filthiest of minds

She’s was bitten on her birthday, and now
A face in the crowd, shes not
And i suspect that now, forever the shape
She came to escape, its forgot
And it’s alot to ask and not to sting1
Give her less than everything
Around your crooked conscious she will wind

Cos were just following the flock round
And the in-between
Before we smash to smithereens
Like they were, and we scramble from the grain
And it’s the fame that put words in her mouth
She couldnt help, but spit em out
Around your crooked conscious she will wind
And it’s alot to ask and not to sting
Giver her less than everything
Innocence and arrogance intwined

“I’ve been thinking of taking acting classes”, I say.

She asks why, and I reply; “Because I’m pretty damn good liar”. And it’s true, I think to myself, while standing on the wet balcony. It’s raining, not heavily, but slowly. Discretly. The kind of rain that makes you wet without you noticing. A empty box of cheap white wine lays discarded under a small table. Wet, slowly dissolving cigarette butts in an ashtray.

She gives me a number of scenes to act out, and I do them all. Angry, happy, sad, laughing. All of them. “Was it good? Should I do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a damn good liar”. And while she says this, she looks sad.