Music

Somehow I have to cull over half a terabyte of music to fit onto a 140GB hard drive. Well, less than that, since I'll want room to download some more music while over there. So, lets say 100GB. Actually, less than THAT, 'cos I'm debating on throwing on some TV shows, so that'll chew up some space. Let's call it 80GB.

This'll be fun.

It's easy to start with the bands that I know I cannot live with out - Smashing Pumpkins, Radiohead, The Beatles, SSPU, NIN, John Mayer, Rilo Kiley, dEUS, Pink Floyd, etc. And these are the entire discographies, the whole kit and caboodle. Seriously, I can't be without that Silversun Pickups remix album. It's a cracker. I could lose the original masters of the Beatles albums since I have the remasters (and what a treat they are), so that's SOME space saved. But get rid of John Mayer Trio? Fuck. You.

After that, you throw on the stuff that you really like, maybe even love, but don't take up too much room. Stuff like Rumspringa, QOTSA, The Raconteurs, obviously George Michael, Weezer, and so on.

But when it comes to bands where there are a few albums that I like, do I chuck a few shrimps of theirs on the musical barby, or all of it? I'm not a massive fan of all of Slipknot's work, and will argue the point that Vol. 3 is their best work 'til I ejaculate in anger (it happens, okay?), but you never know when you want to hear People = Shit. So it all goes on.

And then we get to crap that I know I don't like, but have because one or two tracks necessitate it. Par exampleamontesque (I told you I didn't like French) Keane's Somewhere Only We Know is such a summer song. Every time it's on it's like summer is about to cuddle you in beaming (Zack's word strikes back!) rays of fun and adventure, expectation and yadda yadda yadda. Thus, Hopes and Fears goes in the pile. What about the other two albums, the titles of which I have forgotten 'cos they were pretty bland? Well, Spiraling was a badass track, giving that album a pass.

You see the shit my mind deals with constantly?

AND THEN!

Soundtracks. Compilations. Stand-up. Audiobooks. What do I want from that wee collection? All of John Williams is a no-no, so maybe just the Jurassic Park soundtrack? But then what if I want Star Wars? How will I cope?! And from the compilations I simply must have SXSW. All years. All of it. Need it. Can't do without it. Same with the 100 Greatest Guitar Riffs/Solos/Songs/Intros/Faces/Songs to Fuck Watermelons With. Need all of that.

As for audiobooks, a ton of Doctor Who will suffice (BLATANTLY taking the soundtracks to that bad boy), so check that off the list. And stand-up is easy: David Cross, Lewis Black, Louis C.K., the gone-too-soon-but-never-forgotten Mitch Hedberg and Bill Hicks, and Patton Oswalt all get thrown in the pile.

See? Easy

Oh, wait, I have HOW much left?

Welp, won't be taking any videos with me...

That's what she said

FUCK SCREWS



I am not impressed by the lack of appropriate screws for this external hard drive casing. I demand a formal investigation.

And don't get cocky with me and say 'use the two huge ones' because I tried, dammit, and it only caused me misery and desire for alcohol.

Anyway, aside from thaaaaaaat, I'll be sad enough to make a post about the music I'll whack on to the little blighter tomorrow, maybe.

Bring your wetsuits, kids. It's gonna be a wet one.

There's a French word for this...

I can say it, but I can't spell it. 'Cos it's French. And I hated French.

Anyway, the whole point this blog exists is due to the witty banter between me and an old teacher involving 'pink shorts, a t-shirt and American landmarks'. Hilarious, I know. Upon reflection, a blog wasn't a bad idea (an idea kinda confirmed through a phone call with a good friend) to put down in writing my thoughts about the whole process I am embarking on. Not all my thoughts, and probably not the good thoughts, but thoughts nonetheless.

'But what are you embarking on?' I hear my English teacher asking, since I just spent a paragraph bullshitting and not actually getting to the point. English teachers hate waffle. It's fucked me over in the past. 'Sure, you write well, but what the hell does this have to do with Shirley Valentine in the post-feminist world?' Nothing, that's what, 'cos I hate Shirley Valentine and you should too.

And yet another paragraph.

Um, yeah, so... I'm going to America. For about 9 months. To study. Law. In Houston. English teachers also hate staccato sentences. It's like reading a shopping list compiled by schizophrenic. Or so I believe. I don't know.

I wish I named this blog 'Holy Shit, I'm Blogging!' since I rag on it a lot. Well, not a lot. A bit.

I jet off to sunny Texas on the 5th of August at, like, 9? I'll check closer to the date. To be honest, I'm not as nervy as I once was. Now that the visa is sorted and I have a place to stay (first a hotel, then a room with the gracious Marcus Sprenkel) it feels like it's coming together.

Hang on, I'm turning off Paul McCartney, it's doing my head in at the moment.

The Wombats, that'll do. That reminds me, I'll have to sort out my music for the trip at some point.

So, that's cool. I see it like going to uni again. Just in a different country. There are a couple of things I am worried about:

• Money
• Getting about
• Money
• Public transport
• Money
• Who else is going?
• Money; and
• Money

Supposedly, three other people on my course are meant to be going with me. I did mention this is part of my course? 'Cos it's part of my course. However, one said they won't be coming, one wants to come but doesn't know if they can, and the third is now umming and ahhing after months of certainty. It would be nice if I had at least one familiar face, but fuck it, there are no familiar faces when you first start uni. Unless you stay in your home town. In which case, pub?

I'll finish these thoughts at another point, but for a first post it's everything I wanted to be: Waffle.