Twenty of you now, and the room’s warmer. Appreciate you pulling up to this little corner of the internet. Sit tight. This soundtrack’s just getting weird enough to be fun

Hold my beer.

We’ll be fine.

I mean, we worked out what to do with streaming, auto tune, Napster, cassettes, radio… the player piano.

My favorite mondegreen?
Heard ‘hold me closer, tiny dancer’ as
‘hold me close and try to answer.’

Spent years thinking Elton was out here demanding emotional clarity mid-chorus.

Honestly… respect.

My coffee said it’d give me energy.

It lied.

We’re now doing couples therapy about it.

Thanks to all my followers!

Fifteen faces slipped in clean—no floorboards creaked, no shadows bent.
Movin’ that quiet says you’re my kind of intent.
Grab a seat, mind the mixtape, let the soundtrack spin slow…
Glad you in the dark with me—but how you found me…

…I still don’t know.

What’s a completely harmless hill you’ll die on?

Happy birthday! Did you know vinyl records can hold hidden messages in the runout groove? Some artists leave secret etchings down there.

I got too many to name, but I’ll trade you three if you give me three back.

Pilgrims sailed for winds that dared
to lift their giants through the air;
seeking skies for nylon dreams—
history’s wild in the seams.

Evening, y’all. If today weighed heavy, put on a song that knows your name.

Ten whole humans decided to stick around?
Wild.
That’s like… a small classroom.

Or a very polite gang.
Either way, I’m honored.

I promise to keep the lights low, the words honest, and the chaos mild.

Honestly? Some days the whole world feels like a half-finished sentence…

but then someone drops one honest line,

and suddenly the page don’t look so empty.

So yeah.

Say the kind things.

Scribble ‘em in the margins if need be.

They matter more than we pretend.

Couldn’t leave him behind. Only $4.99. Plus it definitely whispers at night.

From Nebraska but talk like Newark,
boots in dirt with a Jersey smirk.
Got cornfield confessions on a Turnpike beat,
yellin’ “AY YO!” to a herd of sheep.

From the plains but soul’s got edge,
raised on beef, now sass on a ledge.
Block’s all crops, but mood’s Hoboken,
midwest heart but Jersey-spoken.

Grateful for the company.