My Cock is Huge

To combat the back pain you should be asking me about every waking moment of your day, I’ve been walking. Given that driving sends stiletto pains down my atrophied leg, I take off from the house and head in one of two directions- pretty neighborhood or dirty city hike. The latter wins for obvious reasons, as you can at least divide the stroll in two. OK. The point. All that me time is dangerous on the consciousness front, so I try to keep the bad powers at bay with the ipod, which seems to fly in the face of everything I’ve ever said about everything. Who listened? The point- The Jesus and Mary Chain do the long sidewalking as well as any other 80s band trying to play the big cool. I dug the whole of 21 Singles and almost shit my middle-aged pants in a whole new way. Yes, headphones bring production values in a way vinylphiles run from on their way to speeddating classes, and that bigness makes the music much, much more powerful. Sound matters on the avenue. Whispered confessionals never sounded so inspirational when you’re pushing the big hill of Moraga. I can understand the later sucking, but can you dig the glory of the peak years? Take the long walk.