Why pulp is satisfying

I'm in my apartment enjoying a big glass of pulp-y orange juice.
At the grocery store, I had to really look for the "lots of pulp" label.
Apparently, "no pulp" is preferred by most folks.
How can this be?
Pulp is so great. It adds texture, variety, comfort. The pulp is familiar yet unpredictable.
America please rethink this "no pulp" obsession.


I'm glad we live in a society that allows for the "lots of pulp" to exist.

UGH-ICK-Pligh-BYRT

You ever get caught in the "i wannna do it all" funk???
I'm in that state, and considering mapping out such a quest.
If I did "do it all", what would that look like?


New Concepts/Ideas That Change the Way I Look at Stuff:

Visual-mapping
Zen dog
Dummy Lyric

Ahhh Love

Happy Belated Valentine's Day!!!
I spent the entire day/evening/night with a life-long soul mate: creativity.
Deadline and no sleep also got in on the fun.

I just completed my first song with a composer. I'll head to Midtown to hear the finished product as soon as this entry is published.
36 hours.
We started with an idea.
And didn't stop.
Oy.

I still have a lot to learn about songwriting. I remain optimistic. I'm excited and loving the challenge.

Okay kids. Off to make wonderful music.

*muah* (that implies that i'm kissing you goodbye. i don't normally do that sort of thing, but it is a week of love.)

As you walk in the forest you see an ancestor

I'm perpetually exhausted
yet
overwhelmingly satisfied

sweet bliss it is

"Oh Hell Yes!"

I wasn't feeling the grammys last night.

I'm mad the Ying Yang twins got nominated for "The Whisper Song".
Having anybody whisper to you they want to "beat your pussy up" is not sexy ladies.
Can people just get quiet and think about what that phrase is saying?
Just think about it.

Now say it out loud as if you were saying: "I'm fine how are you?"
See? When you take away the beat and the club lights and the liquor
doesn't sound so hot, does it?

If you have a pussy or someone you love has a pussy, would you really want someone to "beat it up"?
I'll be glad when that phrase dies out.

Just 15 more minutes . . .

I'm pooped.
Exhausted.
Beat.
Tuckered out.
I'm writing /planning/thinking A LOT and it feels great.
I'm also getting my lazy behind to the gym.
If I didn't have to sleep great things could happen.
Alas, this sleep thing is a necessary activity.