User:Goldie boi

About me: about me. what about me? u know something i don't? ok...pretty ordinary lad with newfie blood. musician [7cds released]. freelance writer and photographer. painter. makes a wicked pea soup avec la grilled cheese sandwich. nominated stompin tom fer his gg award a few years back and was rewarded for doing so by spending the evening with his excellency and donald sutherland drinking 50 in the expensive seats at the nac. heckled alanis when she was a pop-queen during a live tv recording. managed to meet neil young by going undercover as a postie [brief chat-duh!]. writes songs about the hum-sound a fridge makes, belly-button lint, bill clinton and conrad black, green sweaters, phantom limbs, paul and karla, cardboard boxes, trees - dock - moon, paper laterns, pollution gurls, the instinctal migratory urge of caribou, the marketing of kewl, depression - faith - love, rust, hurt, and bliss. all in a way that encorporates my past, how it intertwines with my present and eventually the 'reason' i do so becomes clear. at least to me anyways. samples [steals] twin peaks soundtracks and myles davis 'tutu'. luv talking about sex, sexuality, lust, desires, the discovery and adventure it gives as a free gift. enjoys a good old slap n pickle porn watching avec the babes. honest, respect, understanding, listening, confident, courageous, playful, creative, and smart ass females always get my attention....until i bore them to death. sooooooooooooooooo much more...but i should save some juicy juicy yar-yars for another time.

in case u were wondering, yes, I change the name of the ‘band’ on every cd. why? because i can!

i am working on a new cd called 'the used and suddenly a monster'

here is a random song lyric.

This winter

Just down here in the basement On the edge and drifting in Don’t think Sheryl Crow will mind me Stealing her song Leaving Las Vegas It just fit with what came over me

Sometimes the stars and me we duke it out Because they wanna take my pillow away, See they’ve been bored all day long, I’d rather ride dirt bikes through muddy ditches, Then take a back seat, and just fade away

They say that talk is cheap as their words knock u down Somehow this became so damn important Like Myths of Real Love and Tragedy Like wearing ragged ass Neil Young Goldrush jeans

This winter was hard for me, I got all nervous, felt time collapse, and didn’t care much Like Nicholas Cage in that movie Leaving Las Vegas He couldn’t let anything touched his soul, it would only make things harder But no matter what, we all get Lost In translation, Lost in something strange, horrible, Wonderful and pure But memory handwraped a beautiful gift for us, like Sheryl Crow singing Leaving Las Vegas, telling u it only 30 seconds, out of a life-time On the edge, and drifting into, Just 30 seconds of out a lifetime, On the edge and drifting into