SOTD: "This Kind of Love" cover by Eric and Me
The Sister Hazel cover, live from Christina and Peter's wedding. Couple of small hiccups, but otherwise great job Eric (and me). We must do this again.
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The Sister Hazel cover, live from Christina and Peter's wedding. Couple of small hiccups, but otherwise great job Eric (and me). We must do this again.
The Song Of The Day today is in honor of newlyweds Christina and Peter. Christina asked rockstar friend Eric and I to sing and play this song for their last dance at the wedding reception this past weekend. Got to see a lot of college friends, had a blast, and Philly was actually really warm! Thank you, Global Warming.
The show says it's always sunny in Philadelphia, but this weekend the forecast says it will be friggin cold.
Thanks to Mike for this one.
The singer-songwriter's music and lyrics are usually pretty easy on the ears. He's also only 25 years old, but he's already got a pretty solid music sensibility and this old-guy jazz-pop voice. Sort of like Amy Winehouse, but without all the drugs and drama, at least, as far as we know.
One of the stories on Forbes.com, an article on Microsoft, today had this for a comment:
Last night, I got home late, after going to a potluck at a friend's house, and there it was: the mysterious package.
It was sitting on the mat right in front of our house's door, a small, square-ish package wrapped up in aluminum foil. It was about the size of a tissue box. And it was just resting there, inexplicably and naturally at the same time, as if it had been there all along. There was no note or any other marking attached to it. I carefully bent down and peered closer. Everything looked, and smelled, ok still. I had the sneaking suspicion it was something unspeakable. I wondered if we had already made enemies around us, when we had just moved into the neighborhood not more than four months ago. Was it our wild block parties or our pet triceratops -- you know, because our house has both of those things regularly -- that had raised some ire? I gingerly lifted some of the foil covering the top of the package. There was something brown and soft inside. For a moment, a fraction of a second that seemed to hang in time, I saw my worst fears realized. I was also a little excited; this was something I'd only read about or seen on TV. Did someone just leave a sack of frakkin' feces at our front door?But then I looked closer. It wasn't feces. It wasn't feces at all. No, thankfully, but just as inexplicably, it was a package containing brownies and chocolate cake. I took it inside. All the housemates were there, and when eventually questioned, nobody knew where the package came from, or, more importantly, who it came from. Was it a sign? A delicious, and possibily poisonous, sign? What did it mean? Did the gods of chocolate send down a gift like manna from the heavens? Or was some stoner on the run from the cops and had to drop off his 'magic' brownie stash here in order to avoid being caught with incriminating evidence? We still don't know where the package came from, and we haven't yet tried to eat the snacks inside. And so the mystery remains, right up there with all the unsolved greats -- Atlantis' existence, Amelia Earheart's last flight, Miley Cyrus' continuing success. Is the *finger snap* still in these days?I got this voicemail today and here was the transcription Google Voice did:
"Hi Oliver, it's up on the Herald. Take care. Bye thought of our lives. I just landed here from London. I'm in accepts this very hour. It's about 2 o'clock on Friday. I just wanted to connect with you at [Phone # removed] I think I'll talk today. Hopeful hopefully black catch up on Monday. Talk to you soon. Take care."My old friend, up on the Herald! That's how we always talk. Black catch you back my mans!
I like to think of this as a blogger's mecca, a Blog-dorado, city of blog-dreams, if you will.
