...but he is nice and has good itunes

...i am back...for how long i don't know, but i am here for this very moment and that is all that counts. i would like to think that my absence can be explained away by the fact that i have alot of august ideas prancing around in my head...and don't really know where to start. something that has been in my mind for awhile now, and something that the other half of the diad and i have been talking about for the better part of 2010...is the phenomena of the "nice boy with the good itunes"



oh...and "august" is not a typo. forget what your mother told you, "august" means "noble, venerable, majestic, awe-inspiring" (and i know this because i was looking up a synonym for "glorious")



back to the "nice boy with the good itunes". i think we'll tackle this in two parts...the first being "the nice boy". my brother would interject here to say that the problem lies in "boy" not "nice", but for the sake of this discussion we'll focus on the latter and not take the former to be an indication of age or maturity. men of the 21st century do not have the greatest street cred (this is not based on some neo- feminist conception, but rather a general perception). so an encounter with a "nice boy" is accompanied by a possible flutter and (re)entertaining the idea that tupac, elvis and michael jackson are in fact alive and well on an island that is yet to be discovered by the masses (fame just became too much for them).



now, if this demeanour is coupled with exposure, however brief, to said boy's itunes...shit starts getting real. and, if said exposure leads to your itunes discovering it's other half then in the words of my dear friend:

"shit is going to get so real, that it will get up and call us real and
then we will all laugh at the craziness of shit calling us real"

what is the problem with this?, you may ask. my answer to this is that with this sub- culture, you cannot be sure if the shit is actually getting real or whether said shit is only real in your mind. you might get caught up in the enthusiasm of the phenomenal music taste and manners that would make your gran proud, but the "nice-ness" prevents said boy from sending you the "i am not as enthused" memo or being anything other than "polite" which in the state of elvis-is-alive-befuddlement could be interpreted more favourably than it ought to be.

this should not be taken as an infallible observation...all observations are fallible because all observations are subjective. instead, this should be taken as a public service announcement of the "stop, drop and roll" variety.

#imjussayin

jamie