luxemburger

Jesus Christ. I've watched this video at least a dozen times in the last 16 hours, and it's fucking making me cry.

Please, Mr. Postman by Hop Along, Queen Ansleis from David Senigo on Vimeo.

Fucking hell. I'm so fucking sick of feeling held in by money, anxiety, by fucking PTSD-esque breakdowns (of which I had two this week, two!), and just. Jesus Christ it's going to kill me if I never do anything that makes me feel as alive as that. If I don't do it soon.

( Other shit I want to be a part of. )

...I feel like I should mention somewhere that I uploaded Hop Along (formerly Hop Along, Queen Ansleis)'s first album for julietcetera yesterday and would totally be willing to share the link with any other interested parties. Also, she is really ridiculously gorgeous, holy crap.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but I fucking love anagrams, and I've spent at least the last hour and a half entertaining myself by finding some for my own name.

Some of my favorites, best read as hypothetical newspaper headlines for maximum amusement:

1. Fatal krill spur stomach.
2. Hilt of lust: carpal marks.
3. "Fractal lark!" hums Pistol.
4. Pal of shrill tarts amuck.
5. Astral plums to filch ark.
6. Karma shortfall cuts lip.
7. Slapstick: a floral thrum.
8. Armpit, ho! Cat lurks, falls.

Man, those karma shortfalls are a real bitch. And I would kill for one of those astral plums right about now (so talented!), but I guess I've got carpal marks to keep me busy in the meantime. At least I haven't eaten any fatal krill lately...?

Someone should go warn the cat. I'll do that. And while I am, it would pretty much delight me to see what your favorite anagrams of your names are, dear friends and pals. So, you know. Hop on that. *bats eyelashes in a manly fashion*