Rule #1: Get Over Yourself (Or, ‘You’re Just Not That Into You’)

I had an excellent ‘Master of The Bleedin’ Obvious’ moment this evening.

Spent most of the afternoon in the studio. When I wasn’t laying down some weird new joints for my record (one assumes the perspective of a nightclub toilet, another is an ode to Larry Bird), I was discussing various plans for the upcoming Flo Rida tour with J. Putting the show together, stuff like that.

It’s amazing how energizing an afternoon like that is. I came home on a high, had something to eat and then went to play ball.

Now, it’s just an open-age Hack Ball competition, but it’s one of the better ones in our fair city of MEL. We got slammed. I mean, SLAMMED. And I got a corked thigh.

So right now I feel pretty $hitty, which is kinda stupid.

Long story short, this is life (or, as the quasi-political graffiti scrawl I once saw on the wall of an abandoned factory in North Melbourne said, “This Is Freedom, C*%#s”). Everybody always either feels the way I feel right now, or the way I felt after the studio session, or somewhere in between. It’s a stupid little life, but it’s the only one we get and it can be quite enjoyable.

The end.

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