Dear Ones,
You know what I like: chantilly lace, you playing your guitar, reading books that have words you need to look up, making a pie, and the sight of you on eight wheels!
I haven't asked you to skate in months- and why? Well, periodically, I give up on you- yes, it pains me to confess it, because the fault is all mine. Ask yourself: When was the last time she suggested I try tap dancing? My, it has been years! What could this mean??
The trouble with loving things very much, is that it is sometimes dismaying to see that others' fires for the subject cannot be lit. So, I slip to the back of the bus for a time, and I ponder what I could say to convince you, and then, I make a new sally at the windmill that is your resistance. Or, perhaps it is my resistance, too- the resistance of all humanity. Because, really, if you implored the holy heck out of me, I still wouldn't give much more time to trying to listen to brostep. It just doesn't reach me, baby.
So what can be done? Meet me in the middle- I will loan you my skates, and you can play Skrillex on your smartphone's speaker. It isn't a perfect world, but it's ours, all ours.
Ain't no resistance in this film:
None here, either, even on the rough and tumble pavement:
Try this film on how skates are made, and see if you can resist getting a pair!
PS One more Chet Faker song, I think, as an outro. But, no one will blame you if want to hear the original, too.
