Warning:A truckload of madness up ahead. This is the land of the dreamers and the forever youthful.
Showing posts with label I AM NOT OKAY OKAY. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I AM NOT OKAY OKAY. Show all posts

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Why I Am Crying.

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Paul McCartney flew to Montserrat, where Beatles producer George Martin had installed a state-of-the-art studio, to begin work on a solo album. The studio manager revealed that McCartney was planning to record with both Harrison and Starkey; ‘John Lennon may well have been on the album as well if he had still been alive.’ A guest at the sessions was the Beatles’ long-time friend rockabilly pioneer Carl Perkins. He played McCartney a song he had just written, entitled ‘My Old Friend’. ‘After I finished,’ he recalled,
Paul was crying, tears were rolling down his pretty cheeks, and Linda said, ‘Carl, thank you so much.’ I said, ‘Linda, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.’ She said, ‘But he’s crying, and he needed to. He hasn’t been able to really break down since that happened to John.’ And she put her arm around me and said, ‘But how did you know?’ I said, ‘Know what?’ She said, ‘There’s two people in the world that know what John Lennon said to Paul, the last thing he said to him. But now there’s three, and one of them’s you, you know it.’ I said, ‘Girl, you’re freaking me out! I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ She said that the last words that John Lennon said to Paul in the hallway of the Dakota building were, he patted him on the shoulder and said, ‘Think about me every now and then, old friend.’
And that, with minor alterations, was the chorus line of Perkins’ song, ‘McCartney really feels that Lennon sent me that song, he really does.’

— p.273 You Never Give Me Your Money: The Beatles After The Breakup by Peter Doggett (via paintedtoburn) (via ontdbeatles) (viafuckyeahjohnpaul)

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Monday, December 13, 2010

Announcement.

My mom has now "limited" my time on the computer. By limited, she means I cannot go online on any day except for Fridays and Saturdays. And I can only stay at a maximum of two hours. Two hours. The blasphemyyyyyyy! Do you know how long it takes me to get an idea? Thirty seconds. How long does it take me to write that thought down in a way I want it to be written? Five hours. So yes, long story short, I'm screwed. My blog will be destroyed, and tiny leprechauns from space will hunt me down and destroy me.

But it's okay. I'm a mature person. I can take it. :) ...


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Yeah. I'm totally fine! What on Earth made you think I'm not fine with the LACK. OF. JOY?
Okay, at least Treyes is finally following me for real this time. Not some imaginary me or something (HI TREYES!) coz that would be totally creepy and stuff. :))

So now you know. Remember, every Friday and Saturday, I'll be here.
Unless of course, the leprechauns have started searching for me and I would be forced to live in Nigeria as their ruler. :D I have to go now. I shall walk in shame.


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