Since the age of 17, I've felt ... well, like a 17-year-old. Vaguely like an adult but with one foot stuck firmly in childhood. Even more than a decade later, I still feel like I have a lot of growing up to do - a feeling supported by how I spend my time. I watch "Laguna Beach" and "The Hills." Hilary Duff often blares from my iPod speakers. I giggle a lot.
Well, last night Kitten and I went to see The Klaxons perform at the Great American Music Hall and I was painfully reminded that I am not 17. Hell, I'm not even 25. I am an old panda who probably should have been hibernating at home instead of eagerly showing my hand stamp to bartenders so that I could order another Stella ... ella ... ella ... eh ... eh ... eh ...
Anyway, I'm old, but the show was funzo!
Here's the hott video for "Golden Skans"
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4 comments:
Kitten got a shout-out!
D'you know, this is exactly how I've felt for the longest? And it's only when I'm talking to some newly-hatched chickadee that I'm sort of brought up short -- like, holy crap, THIS person is 23; I'M ten goddamn years older! Weeird. The retirement homes of the future are gonna be different, I tell you whut. I'll be rollin' in my Lark Mobility Vehicle, sixer of Heineken keg cans in the front carrying basket, and we'll sit there in the lounge hooting at Real World 778: Bakersfield ...
Gleemonex, that thought actually makes me welcome retiree-land more than ever! I imagine lazy, boozy days in the sun as you fiddle with your bass - reminiscing (fondly?) of days gone by when we used to write about "factory working conditions" on the internets...
Beetle, can I get another Stella -ella -ella -eh -eh -eh!?
And repeat...
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