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Does listening to John Mayer make me some kind of social leper?

I have to admit it, the dude's got some decent rifts to his songs, and they're both melodic and meaningful. At the very least, his lyrics aren't boring.

I find myself listening to his songs not for the melody, but for the way he plays the guitar. Time and time again, he impresses me with his style of rhythm strumming. I'm not going to write a huge paragraph on how great he is. I'm not yet a fanboy, but I am slowly picking up the poppy vibe.

His music has re-invigorated my love for the guitar. Yes, surprising, but true. I play.

Now, I'm no superstar, because frankly, listening to my cousin Yodaslap humbles me. It makes everything I've ever thought that was good about my playing seem like a little 4 year old strumming on a tennis racket. He's that good -- all self taught I might add.

So I caved in tonight and by using the power of the internet (and google.ca), pulled out the chords and lyrics of some of his pieces. In yesteryears when I had a smattering of musical inclination, I could probably reproduce what I heard by ear. But those times are long past. Right now, I couldn't tell an A from a cricket chirp.

Still as I drummed along with my mouth open and drool forming at the corners of my mouth, a euphoria I haven't had in a while -- the soothing sounds of a decent guitar washed over me, and it was good. Unfortunately, I've also forgotten how much my fingertips hurt when they're virginal, without callous. So now my left hand fingers are tender and raw. Ouchie!

....Time for a nice cold coke can for me to wrap around. posted by losir at 2:12 AM

Even I have to laugh at this one peeps.

Check out that picture on the left. Man, I think I was 16 then. Probably not a very popular kid huh? Well I'll have you know I actually had chick friends back then, but that was probably out of pity more than anything else.

....I guess some things never change.

P.S.: R.I.P. John Ritter. Three's Company was the best.

posted by losir at 3:47 PM

Okay, office etiquette time.

If you're drilling your nose for chunks of gold, please do not touch anyone else's keyboard/mice.

Hey, I'm not saying I've never picked my nose. I just know that washing your hand is a prerequisite.

....Didn't we learn this stuff in kindergarten? posted by losir at 2:48 PM

I've had a lovely childhood.

As much as I like to complain about my life, I forget just how fortunate I am. Look, so I don't drive a Porsche 911 Turbo like a certain friend of mine. And as much as I'd like to dream, I can't afford a nice condo yet.

My scholastic tendancies never went beyond grade 3. That is to say, I remember waking up bright eyed and bushy tailed, trying to sneak off to school before it even opened. Grade 4 cured me of that!

But I've had an easy childhood. I didn't have to drudge well water across a drought wrought land to feed cows. I didn't have to be in a school classroom rammed with 70+ other kids. Heck, I even got toys every year on my birthday.

All these I realized as I watched Wide Angle on PBS. They showed education (or the lack thereof) of young children all through primary school across the globe, many countries where they were so poor, chalk was cosidered a luxury.

It then brought it all back into perspective. I've been hating life hard for the last month, self hate permeating my daily thoughts and nightly dreams. But watching these little kids having it rougher than I ever imagined, well it brought a dull ache to my heart that hurt more than anything I could do with a knife.

So I thank my parents for loving me, and giving me a warm home and shelter. I thank them for giving me new clothes (that I hated) to keep me decent. And although I still blame my parents for stupid goofy haircuts back in the day, I can't be mad that at least they tried.

Yeah, Fanx Mommy and Daddy. I lub you.

....Back to hating my stupid Golf for sucky brakes, and my stupid bike for a leaking rad. posted by losir at 2:30 PM

I was poking around my other cousin ol navi's site, when I noticed that he had a freestylin' comment system for us to bust our inner homeboy kicking rhymes.

Here's mine. Please try not to laugh too hard. I was just playin'.

Why you be hatin', loser "yo please"
I be the grator, and you be the cheese.
I flow like wet water, while yours is cement, I blow a car pament, while you scrape for rent.
My style is stylistic, yours was last year, I'm rather fantastic, with tomorrow's fresh gear.
I flow, I grow, I smoke up the flave; I blow, I show, you to your grave.
So please don't be jealous and don't be upset. I'm done with you preschool, I'm losir, I jet.

...Peace. posted by losir at 3:12 PM

Fun for everyone.

Stumbled onto this link "What Is Your Battle Cry".

Not much going on today, just trying to catch up at work.

....Work after vacation sucks like a Hoover vacuum overclocked. posted by losir at 1:47 PM

Four days now without a post. Come on, you missed me. Admit it.

My brother was up at Tee-Dot this weekend, we had a blast, and I'm going with that.

I realize that walking around Ryerson and UoT, I miss university life a lot. Not the education part, but the friends and friendship I developed with my peers; a common goal to not flunk out kept my small tight-knit knot of friends very close.

As we parted ways and entered into the working world, we quickly grew apart, mostly due to our vast diverging careers. We started writing less emails, called each other less frequently. We spent more time working instead of drinking, more overtime and less partying.

We are all partly to blame. The email respond time became longer. The ICQ/Yahoo/MSN/AIMs became left messages not answered in realtime. Life happens, and most often times, we're too busy to remember anything else except the present.

Remember "pen pal"s? Whatever happened to that? Do people still write old-fashioned letters to each other when they want to keep in touch? I mean, that's one of the problems ain't it? Even I used the word "old-fashioned". It's not like the internet was invented 100 years ago.

So it comes down to the 'net - instant gratification. We no longer worry about losing touch because communication is merely a few keystrokes away. Although this is convenient, it has also become sterile.

The tactile feel of a nice pen on crisp paper is something that plastic clicking buttons cannot hope to replicate. Even with the onslaught of PDAs and their shortstroke characters, itcannot begin to recapture the feel of writing down one thoughts in long hand for someone they are fond of. Frankly, I miss receiving letters in the mailbox. I miss the anticipation of receiving an envelop with my name on it, written with good penmanship. I miss the smell of new envelops, the taste of a postage stamp, and the inevitable paper cut on my tongue as I donate my saliva for the security of the content therein contains.

Mr. Mailman, I apologize that I have personally relegated you to delivering bills and junk mail. I regret that I have not directly contributed to your personal income. I am sorry that you no longer are my messenger of love, it saddens me.

Such is the sacrifice we make in the name of progress.

....Long live getting an 'A' in handwriting. posted by losir at 4:30 PM