TRON

My love for the techno-reality has been rekindled. I remember the weeks on end I spent pondering how likely scifi scenes would be in my life-time. They will never reach the level of Tron, but by golly if they do I have found my rightful birthplace. The OST will have to suffice for now.

Ghost Writing

Help! I need suggestions for domain names for my Ghost Writing business! Ghostwriter.com is taken, ghostwriting.com is taken, ghost-writer.com is taken, theghostwriter.com is taken... didn't want to be lengthy either, or look like a fake site. HALP.

32 Bars

Finished 'em. Now to help Pete record and attempt to win the contest. I would post the 32 bars here but that'd be considered prior publication and would probably disqualify me if anyone googled it, so I'll have to keep it veiled until it's a recording. Organic lab in the morning... *sigh*, Tuesday mornings are the new Mondays.

Car Insurance

Sucks.

The End of the Grand Opening

No more buy-9-get-9-free shrimp dinners. What does this mean for me? I'm glad you asked-- it means no more ten-thousand-plate nights and staying until eleven when I only work until nine. My back is official unhinged and a wreck, though. I fully comprehend Michaela's back problems now, I even had the nerve/muscle pain shooting down my left leg to my knee, and the constant throbbing/uncomfortable pain spanning the entire width of my lower-back. The only thing is mine will go away and she'll have hers, but even this is bearable and able to be ignored, and hers isn't this bad 24/7 so I think we'll be alright. I have to be more diligent with pushing her to do her back exercises so she'll get relief down the line from the pain. Next on the agenda is writing my lab report for tuesday and writing a double-long 32-bar verse for contest for Piotr to get some publicity. 'Til then homies.

The Grand-Master League at TOTR

Tonight, work showed its true face, casting off its shroud of monotony. The restaurant was twice-over booked, and the dishes were sky-high already when I arrived. They only got higher, almost reaching the moon. What is supposed to be a 6pm-9pm shift eventually wound up being a 6pm-11:30pm shift, and we still weren't done; we pushed stuff off until tomorrow (today now, I guess). Mich apparently dumped drinks on herself in the lobby, but she's so hot it doesn't even matter. I'm too tired to type more... but tomorrow night (or tonight, rather), I get to do it alllllllllllll over again. I'm overjoyed.

On This Night of Our Lord...

Successfully managed to bring Michaela with me to UNF to sit through Organic Chem II. Again, I side-tracked and ended up going into the lab to write some bars. Pumped out 48 bars (a full track), just gotta go through and polish it and add a hook. I also jotted down the first four lines to what promises to be a truly epic track, using a 5-rhyme scheme like I intended for my last track but was unsuccessful at.

Watched the first half of iRobot with Mich, she hadn't seen it before, it's a pretty decent movie besides seein' Will Smith's fanny. We were entirely booked at work, which has never happened. Only other thing worth noting I believe is that Mich is soooooooooo dang sexy and some dude tried to hit on her (a guy I knocked out in highschool) and I politely threatened him, assuring he would not be back. Good day, gents.

Rough-Draft Rap

Here's a rough-draft of my first 16 bars (lines) in the next track on deck to be written:

It was evening when the ghosts sat down together

No better than some old fools chasin’ cheddar

Believe me, they had flows that flew like feathers

Breeding tracks like feral cats no matter the weather

Refused to quit, getting loose with it, don’t miss this

Sippin’ up that mountain dew delicious

True spit from two gents it’s not fictitious

Suspicions were aroused from the lines so vicious

Choose friends or fame, offend or retain,

Sacrificed it all in the name of the game

Unreal strains followed by caffeine pains

Seditious accusations from the mainstream gang

Spending nights alone, yo I don’t like to groan,

‘Bout my preteen days disintegratin’ in the zone

In my mind’s eye pretending that I’d climb the throne

On a path so rough it was Rocky like Stallone

Sittin' up in StarBucks about to "go into the lab" as we rappers would call it. Going to try a five-column word rhyme-scheme, which I'll write up by hand and see if I was successful or not afterwards (and I'll post that of course). I'm hoping somebody gets outta here soon, I'm not by a power plug and the laptop will only last 1.5 hours.

Top o' the mornin' to ya!

I'm awake. Don't take that for granted; it's 8:16am and I am awake and getting things accomplished, and have been for about twenty minutes. This is highly unusual and a sign that one of my elder relatives must have been related to Alexander the Great. I also have three mountain dews on my desk-- all three are half-full (yes, half-full). I need to go get my mint-condition Super Nintendo Entertainment System out of the garage so I can start testing some of my vintage video games, but that would mean opening le garage door, which is cacophonous, and would lead to an awakening of the sleep giant, my dad. This is not a good thing. The moment has come to devise a plan so cunning as to keep him in bed and evacuate my video games from site A to their destination. Until next time...

Genesis

Time to bust a cap up in here. Seriously, busting it off of my pen (my literal pen, as well as my symbolic pen-- the keyboard). Not only am I back into writing raps and preparing to write my illest and most incredible rap of all time (OF ALL TIME - Kanye), I'm going to begin this blog, because I don't want Mich to get all the glory for writing. FOR GLORY!

-Alexander "The sugar on your fruit-loops" Vespers