Dear elvis-busker-man-who-plays-outside-the-rideau-centre:
I can not tell you how overjoyed I am that you managed to find yourself an amp. Now you can spread your blue-suede-shoes-joy so much farther than before. No more measly accoustic guitar. Today I heard you from three blocks away, and for a moment, I was sure that the King was Alive. It was a shining moment.
rock on rockstar,
narcissa
1:18 p.m. - 2001-06-28
Recent entries:
sisyphus, considering life after the stone.
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
blujeans-uk
degausser
igotsprung
theshivers
dirtyboots
annanotbob2
alethia
kateness
gonzoprophet
hexes
orangepeeler
movingsands
dangerspouse
toastcrumbs
linguafranca
raven72d
soon
yourtipsucks
jademariposa
dramathighs
cymbals
sduckie
mocksie
revisions
dinosaurs
joistmonkey
holdensolo
stereogirl
swimmer72
iooi
grouse
a-d-w
dinosaurs
daily-prose
sidewaysrain
sparkspark
lisamcc
kaffeine
firstperson
ann-frank
smartypants
swordfern
greenplastic
not-a-finger
crayon
weetabix
gnoll
jessrawk
quoted
jennyj
sageadvice
larrielou
pischina
mindless
ncss
twiggle
tvzero
withkerth
sillybitch
unresolved
marn
noalarms
methybeth
mechaieh
luminescent
lush
indierawk
argyle-socks