After early last week’s shin injury scare, I bounced back harder than a large rubber dong repeatedly bounced off the back of a skull and ended up with 28.23 miles on the week and 306.71 miles (now 316.05) hiked since the start of my 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special on September 19th.
I was proud of all that for about 30 seconds until I realized that the only reason I’m hiking every day is that I, for a multitude of reasons, none all that legit, have ditched my mountain bikes for hiking shoes and a camera.
OK, OK, OK, STOP!1
I literally spent most of my early Tuesday morning in an emotional writing frenzy brought forth by the Holiday season2. But then, as doesn’t happen nearly enough, I realized that I had put a LOT out there, and whilst it was therapeutic to write out, there was no clear purpose to my musings other than to spew some pent-up venom and attempt to further justify some feelings that I continue to deal with.
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So, that’s been shelved until I start my new blog dedicated solely to dealing with the beauties of parentification and the lifelong mental mind-fuck it can unearth. You’re welcome.
Instead, I will end this and move on.
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Later.
THE SOILED SOUNDS TRACK OF THE POST
I went back to the early 2000s for this one, and while it may be 20+ years old, the 2002 mini-album Whip It On by The Raveonettes still gets my eardrums bleeding and my flat white man’s ass shaking like an aging satanic go-go dancer listening to The Jesus and Mary Chain while watching a David Lynch movie.
Clocking in at just 21 minutes, this album packs a lot in your ear holes in so few minutes. The above track, Cops on Our Tail, is one of my favorite songs from the EP and never fails to get the 2014 Ford Escapes driving a bit faster and my aging body moving in ways that everyone on the planet would find mildly to very disturbing.
The Raveonettes continue to tour and make distorted, noisy, melodic indie rock music, with the only real blight on their long recording career having recorded a couple of holiday-themed tracks over the years and at times getting a little too “60s girl-pop” for my tastes. They are one of those bands that slip my mind every so often, but when they pop in, shit happens.
Note to Self: Make a new playlist with all their noisy bangers.
- Said with the vigor of a lead singer yelling for the band to stop playing because he’s too high to remember the words to the song. Perhaps Sebastian Bach would be a good visual aid?
- Anxiety and depression are the real Reasons for the Season. Tell that to your uber-religious Aunt Karen, that won’t give you a gift because she gave it to baby Jesus for his “birthday.”