I Never Could Get the Hang of Thursdays

Much like Arthur Dent, I find Thursdays to be filled with many ridiculous things that make me question whether I’m indeed awake, or having some sort of strange coma dream.  When I get like this, the best thing to get me through it is loud music.  VERY LOUD music.   Here are my favourite Thursday morning selections:

 

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Black Betty

 

Flogging Molly – Devil’s Dance Floor  (It HAS to be the live version.  None other will do.)

 

Clutch – Electric Worry

 

Gogol Bordello – Super Taranta!

 

M.I.R.V. – Surfin’ Soviet

 

Yup, after listening to these I might be able to make it through today.  What picks you up on the mornings where you can’t get going?

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21 thoughts on “I Never Could Get the Hang of Thursdays

    • I have been sitting here for an hour doing nothing except occasionally yelling at the kids to be a little quieter because mommy’s head is owie.

        • I had three TARDIS mugs of coffee and two excedrin (with pharmaceutical grade caffeine, that’s why it works!) so far. I just brewed a second pot of coffee and will probably continue to drink it for another few hours. The initial drowsiness has passed, but I keep finding myself entangled in increasingly surreal conversations with my children.

          So far today we’ve discussed whether it’s okay to throw out mouldy bagels (of course it is, but he didn’t want to believe me), which voice actor is the best Spider-Man, whether it’s possible to watch too much streaming Spider-Man (mommy says yes!) and whether I washed his cup well enough (he says it tastes like juice still, I argue that is surely impossible and he must be smelling soap after which we have a discussion on mommy trying to poison him by making him drink soapy water).

          As you can see, highly eventful.

    • That’s what my five year old does. He is 100% certain that if he hides under a blanket, I will assume he’s not around and therefore he can not get in trouble.

    • M.I.R.V. often works with Les Claypool of Primus. You can find him playing guitars on some of their older stuff, and Les will sometimes play bass on the M.I.R.V. albums. If you can find it (it’s out of print, sadly) you should definitely check out their concept album Cosmodrome, which features this track.

  1. I believe Clutch is the best of this group. I can’t get the morning started until I take a 30 minute shower. Just stand with my eyes closed in a pod of solitude. Nothing is worse than someone interrupting this experience. It completely messes me up for a while.

  2. I’m partial to really loud, old Red Hot Chili Peppers (especially Blood Sugar Sex Magik or Californication) or Ani DiFranco’s Living in Clip. Particularly driving in my car, because my commute takes a dog’s age.

    Conversations with your five-year-old Spider-Man afficionado sound a lot like conversations I have with my five-year-old Spider-Man afficionado. All the conversations. In fact, last summer, as he and I were on a plane flying over the mountains on the way from Houston to Seattle (we were just slightly more than halfway through the very long flight), he had a meltdown because he didn’t think the plane was moving. Nothing I could say would convince him otherwise. He bemoaned the fact that we were never going to get there, it would take SO LONG, because the plane had stopped. The mountains rushing past below us just out his window were not, sadly, persuasive.

    • Excellent choices with the old RHCP and the Ani!

      The 5 year old is probably my biggest headache right now. He’s super adorable and sweet, but he never ever stops questioning anything he’s told. Neither of his older brothers (currently 12 and 6) were this bad when it came to things like this, but it’s like he thinks we’re lying to him all the time. Like with the bagels earlier:
      “Really, mommy? Throw them away?”
      “Yes, baby, they’re not good anymore. There are some other bagels you can have.”
      “But throw them IN THE TRASH?!”
      “Yessssssssss! They’re yucky now!”
      “Are you sure they’re yucky?”
      [sigh]

  3. There are points where I will leave the house in the morning and feel deeply conflicted, because I’ve escaped, but had to abandon my wife in the process. It’s like the scene where the noble supporting character makes a brave sacrifice and leads the rabid wolves away from the rest of the explorers, usually accompanied by a wide-eyed, horrified stare and bellowed “NOOOOOOOOO!” from the protagonist. The wolves are our three children, whom I love to the ends of the universe and back, but my gosh they’re hard work on the school run. How my wife does it every morning without losing her mind is….

    Anyway. On those mornings I will get in the car and play Elbow. Or Peter Gabriel. Or Kate Bush, if I’m really conflicted. Running Up That Hill seems to sum it all up.

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