Jonesin’ bad and really fucking tired

Here’s a predictable statement from me… I need to talk to one of those sexy NiteFlirt ladies in a MAJOR way.  I didn’t get to play at all last week because of all the tired and sore I brought home from work.

And that statement segues quite nicely into this next one: I’m hella fucking tired and sore.  Also, I remember when I used to give a fuck about my job.  Now it’s just a paycheque.  As long as I work all day it makes no difference whether stuff leaves the building on time or not.  I get paid the same either way.

On to better topics.  I’m listening to that bootleg Pink Floyd live recording right now as I ride the bus home.  Decent sound on this… could be better but it’s nice to hear extended stage renditions of songs like “Embryo”, “Cymbaline”, “Fat Old Sun” and others from that era.  I’ll take the vitality and experimentation of early-mid Floyd any day over the cold calculation of “The Wall” and everything that came after.

I still like that stuff.  It’s good to hear little bits of it now and then, but it’s not as exciting to me as the stuff they played from ’69 to ’72.

So, what will Robotman do tonight?  Will Robotman have some much needed phone sex or will Robotman have some much needed sleep?

Tune in tomorrow for the exciting answer!