Who's in a bunker? Who's in a bunker? Women and children first And the children first, and the children I'll laugh until my head comes off I'll swallow 'til I burst Until I burst, until I Who's in a bunker? Who's in a bunker? I have seen too much I haven't seen enough, you haven't seen it I'll laugh until my head comes off Women and children first And children first, and children Here I'm alive Everything all of the time Here I'm alive Everything all of the time Ice Age coming, Ice Age coming Let me hear both sides Let me hear both sides, let me hear both Ice Age coming, Ice Age coming Throw it in the fire Throw it in the fire, throw it on the We're not scaremongering This is really happening, happening We're not scaremongering This is really happening, happening Mobiles skwerking, mobiles chirping Take the money and run Take our money and run, take our money Here I'm alive Everything all of the time Here I'm alive Everything all of the time Here I'm alive Everything all of the time Here I'm alive Everything all of the time

Do you know what's majorly fucked up? That after watching Scream earlier and witnessing, y'know, those kids being cut to bits, etc etc, that I'll dream about it tonight. Hey I'll even play devil's advocate and say: maybe I won't -- however that doesn't take away from the fact that if I were to dream about it, i'd be the one bloodied on the floor and all that harangue. 

I don't especially care, I've dreamt my own death, my parents', hell even my cat's when I was a little kid (his name was Eli, he drowned in the Titanic). This now sounds like a long edgy, screamo, Christian Slater, vocal-fry over-the-phone, teen angst diary entry (which, since I'm self aware, it means I can't possibly be cliché) but it's not. 

In reality I'm sat here at the family computer, on my 4th day of holiday break, writing on a fucking myspace fan's website copy. But I'll purge my soul for just a moment and allow myself to toe the line of cringe teen deep: finishing Scream with my parents asleep upstairs, getting a bit loose on their liquor cabinet, tossing a load in the dishwasher and then slumping into a chair peeling an orange, humming to ambient electronica all the while...y'know I felt a bit cool. 

I'm 18, I'm allowed ever moment of self confidence I can get. Wouldn't want to turn into another tragic teen suicide. 

Teen suicide's out this year, homicide is in! 

Speaking of: Moby is some of the best any-day, any-mood music I've ever heard. A bit like Radiohead (though the commercialized opinion may disagree), which I've always found equally joyous and depressing. Moby can be easy listening, shout in the car with the windows down, mosh rave music, sleep all day music, cry over your ex music, and even that exposed pipe over there looks like a mighty good place to hang myself music. He's a master of all seasons! A well-weathered man. 

Speaking of (of): sad about that Twitch guy, man. When I was a kid and Ellen was relatively cool to watch (honestly 7 year old me always wanted to go on the show a bit), I loved Twitch. Cool dude. He's since joined the turning-40-club. Not that I can think of any other victims to that mentality, I just assume there've been several. 

Sad stuff. I think I'll turn in for a good nights rest. 

Isn't it funny that all it takes these days is a Moby song at the end of a shit horror flick to get you in the mood. 

not that Scream is shit. 

and not that the mood is down. 

I'll show myself out. 

googling where Lillard got that great sweater, 

Humming