Rain Dog @Leucrotta@awoo.space

inspired by the YouTube comment about "well music [from the 60s] used to tell stories"

nowwwwww
here's a little story I'd like to tell
about three bad brothers y'know so well
it started way back in history
with me, MCA, and me (Mike D!)
I had a little horsie named Paul Revere
me and my horsie and a quart of beer
ridin' cross the land, kickin' up sand
sherriff's posse on my tail 'cause I'm in demand
one lone beast-i-ee I be
all by myself without nobody
the sun is beatin' down on my baseball hat
the air is hot and still. the beer is gettin' flat
lookin' for a girl, I ran into a guy
his name is MCA, I say "howdy" he says "hi!"

Oh fuck yeah The Spud is back in Greenlake again! Closed Monday but they’re open till 2100 most of the week!

Guess who again regrets they took Russian and German, which don’t come into play that often, instead of Spanish, which would be profoundly helpful for working with recent immigrants?

Photos from this weekend. Old railroad station in Anacortes; vintage graffiti in the baggage room of that station; old apartments in Cap Hill; bookstore cat does a stretchy, also in Cap Hill.

Not just using Spanish pronunciation for the clade “opilliones,” but saying it in your best Unavision announcer voice. #sabado #sabado #sabado

I brought even more soup, and have a fair amount here, but am thinking of getting spicy vegetable glop from the nearest Japanese place to make leftovers and have veggie stuff.

A one page TTRPG set during the grimmest days of the Battle of Britain. Can your pilot come up with the most completely incomprehensible slang in the ready room before everyone has to scramble to face Me 109s and Fw 190s in the grey skies?

Between having only half a weekend, lack of sleep and transition to DST (not bad yesterday, but bad today when I needed to get up in wintry dark and wet!) I really want to skip work and nap instead!

convoluted quasi-horror movie dream combined with acid reflux from eating late in the evening wasn't a great combination, and I think I might go back to sleep soon, but honestly would like another day off.

the alternate universe where Tim Curry was Ming the Merciless in Flash Gordon

Definitely feeling “low on hope in a difficult life” rn, in ways very hard to pick apart from “hopeless and complete disaster,” and distinguishing that it’s the first would be kinda useful.

I’d be very interested in this cut price archaeology book but, I already feel not permitted to show interest in Native American anything. Tucking it in the back of my mind as something potentially there though.

how sober are you *really* right now if listening to "Aces High" immediately prompts you trying to remember the correct takeoff sequence for a Spitfire? fuck yes I remember about how you do it, if someone asks me to fly a Bf 109 I'm screwed though.

"the biggest wastes of time we regret as we get older" hint it's usually day jobs and familial loyalty rather than stuff like "crap, I should *never* have decided I was going to build an Eldar army in 2000 or so, what will I do with all these old Eldar models?"

oh sunshine
your loving beauty passed me by
should I waste my time
in your valley, beneath your sky?
Aaaaaa! Aaaaaa! Aaaaaa! Aaaaaa!
I am home!

You move your own mountain
the trees have grown, the trees have grown!
Now it's over,
now it's over and I'm going home!
Aaaaaa! Aaaaaa! Aaaaaa! Aaaaaa!
I am home!

I think I've changed my mind, "Bron Yr Aur" is the best Zeppelin track

holy shit, making a track as long as "No Quarter" and having it *stay interesting* for that long is pretty impressive.

woo, this Garmarna track makes me want to grab a Dane axe and run out onto a bridge to hold it against an army of English (that part of the heroic myth. not the spear up the jacksy part.)

so you run and you run to catch up to the sun but its sinking
and racing around to come up
behind you again
the sun is the same in a relative way but you're older
and shorter of breath, and one day closer to death
ev'ry year is getting shorter
never seem to find the time
plans that either come to naught
or half a page of scribbled lines
hanging on in quiet desparation is the English way
the song is gone, the time is over,
I thought I'd so much more to say.

Home, home again.
I like to be here when I can
when I come home, cold and tired
it's good to warm my bones beside the fire
far away across the fields
the tolling of the iron bells
calls the faithful to their knees
to hear the softly spoken magic spells.

I'm not frightened of dying.
any time will do, I don't mind.
why should I be frightened of dying,
there's no reason for it, you've got to go sometime.

read me my rights as though I didn't know this
threw me in a cell with a drunk named Otis
with his five o clock shadow he smelled like three day old beer!
my man turned to me and said why are you here?
I said I'm charming! I'm dashing! I'm in the car crashing!