Hurricane Harbor

A writer and a tropical muse. A funky Lubavitcher who enjoys watching the weather, hurricanes, listening to music while enjoying life with a sense of humor and trying to make sense of it all!

Sunday, August 08, 2004

Get Over It....Invest 91, 92.. Get Over It I wake up this morning. Go online and try to read what was posted over Shabbos.

So hard to catch up that way and there is nothing happening.

Everyone is rehashing the past. Old invests.
I'm having problems remember which invests.. they all look the same. Tropical Depressions that were or Tropical Storms that never were..

And, the past.. everyone wants to rehash the past.
Wanna bees.. Pretenders and Has Beens.. all crowding around rehashing the past like its yesterday's breakfast of champions.

so.. its like this..
my advice to everyone..

Today is August 8th, 2004. Let's forget about the past. Let's forget about the old invests and tropical depressions that died not pretty deaths out at sea.. Let's forget about Debbie.

Let's live in the present.

I am doing breakfast with Sharon while she still lives down south before she runs away to Maine.

Song of the morning :)
Get Over It!

Sorry dont have time to fix the lyrics because Sharon is impatient and will be outside beeping the horn loud waking up and inciting my neighbors cause Im lying in bed with a towel on and haven't gotten dressed.

fix it yourself and get over it ;)
turn on the tubewhat do i see,a whole lot a people cryin' "don't blame me"they point their crooked little fingers at everybody elsespend all their time felin' sorry for them selves victim of this, victim of that your mommas too thin; and your daddys too fatget over it get over it all this whinin' and cryin' and pitchin' a fityou say ya haven't been the same since ya had your little crashbut you might feel better if they gave you some cashthe more i think about it, ol' billy was right let's kill all the lawers- kill 'em tonight you don't wanna work you wanna live like a king butt the big bad world doesn't owe you a thingget over it get over it ya don't want to play then you might as well split get over it, get over it it's like going to confession every time i hear you speakyour makin' the most of your losin' streak some call it sick, but i call it weak yeah yeah yeahyeah you drag it around like a ball an' chain you wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain you wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown got your mind in the gutter, bringin' everybody downya bitch about the present and blame it on the pasti'd like to find your inner child an' kick it's little assget over it get over it all this bitchin' and moanin' and pitchin' a fitget over it, get over it get over it get over it it's gotta stop some time so why don't you quitget over it,get over it get over it


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