I’m writing this post at 1:30 a.m. on Friday, April 27th, but I’m gonna schedule this entry to post later on, in case you guys miss me when I’m in China. So to help you guys not miss me, I’m gonna post something icky. This came about on an IM conversation with James earlier. For those of you who don’t know, he plays lots of instruments and writes/records his own music, occasionally with his own band.

james: i should write a song about turds.
Cindy: “Tuuuuuurd, turd turd tuuuuurd, tuuuuuuuurd, turd turd turd, and I love you, you’re my turd, and I miss you…”
oh wait, that’s “dream.”
james: “My biggest mistake in my life, was when i flushed you down the toilet.. oh hey”
Cindy: “How could I have done you that-a-way, my turd, my one and only turd?”
james: thats a lie.
you dont have a one and only turd.
Cindy: it had to rhyme with “hey” cuz that’s what you ended with
james: you dont have to rhyme in songs!
if you’re an expert!
Cindy: well, every time you lose your love you thnk it’s your one and only and you’ll never love that way again
james: thats what they tought us ya know
like in poetry
true
Cindy: fine. I’ll anti-rhyme.
james: but then along comes the next turd.
that crawled up beside her
Cindy: “Yo turd, my lovah, thought you were gone forevah, but then I turned and whoa mama, my ass got taken ovah…”
I can’t do it, I rhyme.
I just do.
All the time.
james: Hahahahah
james: YOU are conforming!!!!!
you cant help yourself!!!!
Cindy: it takes more talent to rhyme than not.
I rhyme every time I start to jot
Even when I try to write
Prose my words just sound alike.
james: i have my guitar now.
im singing the turd song you wrote.
Cindy: I’m writing raps now.
james: lol
im taking your raps
and singing to them.
and putting music to it.
you know what.
Cindy: you’re gonna post it on your blog as a sound byte?
james: the first part. “Yo turd, my lovah, thought you were gone forevah” is really cool hahahahaha
Cindy: I know. I’M really cool.
brrr and stuff
james: lol
thats so cool
Cindy: what is?
james: your song

There you go, ladies and gentlemen! A real critique, from a real musician! I have talent! (Betcha don’t miss me NOW, huh? You’re welcome.) *curtsy*