You know, if there’s one thing I hate about writing blournals is when I can’t think of a fucking title for one…

Hi, folks.

So, at the moment, I’m trying to dig up a couple of music-themed blogs from which I scoured through earlier in the year. I remember liking how both blogs were presented, but I don’t recall what they were named or what brought me to them in the first place. Currently, the only sure thing I have to go on is that these blogs were made in Wordpress, but Wordpress blogs are a dim a dozen and so far, nothing’s jogged my memory.

I’m also getting back into reading again, which is good. I really fucking love reading but I’m a terrible reader. Usually, I’ll start reading a book and I’ll get into it for a while, but I never get around to finishing any of the books I’ve started because I put the “pro” in procrastination. It’s a bad habit and I’m hoping to break it with Lemmy’s autobiography, White Line Fever, which I finally started reading this week after a couple of false starts. It should come as no surprise that Lemmy lived one hell of a fucking life. So much so that I do feel slightly inadequate in comparison. I’m only a fraction of the way through the book but there’s plenty of debauchery and devilment even before Motorhead enters the fray. Also, here’s a fun fact. Did you know that Lemmy was born on Christmas Eve? Not gonna lie. I think that’s pretty fucking awesome and I’m seriously tempted to add Motorhead to all of my future Christmas playlists going forward.

Until next time…