Play a musical instrument (esp. piano and/or bass)
Write (novels, that is)
Play a musical instrument (esp. piano and/or bass)
Write (novels, that is)
Always wished I’d picked up a bass in the fifth grade. I like playing mallets (xylophone, marimba, vibraphone, etc.) fine, it was a lot of fun, but I wish I could play some of the music I listen to.
I keep trying to write, but the skill of writing fiction hasn’t really kicked in yet (if it ever will).
Kick someone’s ass, if needed. I haven’t been in a fight since high school, and my record thus far is 0-6 (not including beating up my little brothers). I’m pretty non-violent as a rule, but it would be nice to know that I could, if I had to.
(Luckily, I’m 6’2" and weigh 250 lbs. I don’t get picked on very much.)
Mr. K’s Link of the Month:
develop a professional life… anyone have a carrier for me? anyone? anyone?
I wish I could have the guts to talk to the guy I like.
And to one day have a conversation at work that goes like this, “Do you work here?” “No, MORON, I fold sweaters as a hobby.”
Dance. Not foxtrot/tango/hustle/macarena. I’m talking about sky-leaping, gravity-defying, soul-carrying DANCE. Nuryev stuff. Astaire’s dreams. Grace, beauty and freedom that carries it’s own music and needs no accompaniment. The dance that inspires
Well, a few out of the millions of things I wish I could do:
Play this guitar that’s sitting next to me like Eddie Van Halen. Sing. Write better. Invest better. Get my stereo output to CD R/W input interface to not have so much buzz. Bag a buck(deer) next season. Oh yeah, and take back all the bad things I’ve done in this life? Etc…
“Teaching without words and work without doing are understood by very few.”
-Tao Te Ching
I want to completely lose my sense of tact and bitch someone out for no reason. And skydive.
Find true love that lasts forever.
Yer pal,
Satan
figure this out
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Own a lear jet so I can zip back and forth to visit.
I am me… accept it or not.
I wish I could stop playing golf. It’s a moronic, idiotic, mindless game. Yet there I am, practically every Sunday morning during the summer, hacking at a stupid little white ball with my three so-called friends who take my money and laugh at me.
I hope they die some day.
This space for rent.
Sing on key. Once it would be nice to sing Happy Birthday to someone without it being a bad thing. =)
“Only when he no longer knows what he is doing, does the painter do good
things.” --Edgar Degas
Rethink yesterday’s beer consumption…
I wish I could write mundane, pointless messages, as average joes do, but I am too brilliant. Hey, wait a minute, I got my wish!
Play guitar. Not rock guitar, not strumming campfire guitar, but intricate classical guitar type stuff…
–
O p a l C a t
www.opalcat.com
Play guitar. Not rock guitar, not strumming campfire guitar, but intricate classical guitar type stuff…
–
O p a l C a t
www.opalcat.com
Kill people instantly with super-powerful lasers that come out of my eyes.