Might stop blogging ya’ll. Just feeling pretty thawed out on the pressures of daily bloggable music content. I feel kind of like I’m playing tennis against the wall [no matter how good I get at tennis I can never get good enough to beat the wall; that motherfucker is relentless] or ‘racing against time’. I guess I just wanted a chill forum to present southern LCD trap-rap and shoegaze influenced quirk-pop to a meaningful, core group of people but it didn’t turn out the way I planned.  All of the sudden the ‘tumbling community’ was addicted, fiending for fresh JEFFstarr clips and avant-garde  mixtapes from the Bankhead Projects that haven’t been released in high volumes on the web or at your local mall Sam Goodies/TowerRecord/EmpireRecord/Napster. It was more than I could handle ya’ll. Everything tastes like licorice. Especially all the things you’ve waited so long for, like absinthe.

Might just take a cue from this informative infomercial or the relevant 2k9 jam “Beachcomber” [2 below]:

What you want is just outside your reach, keep on searching.

-My Real Estate Agent

Look at this bro in the video below. Do you think he is the kind of guy feeling the pressures of running a modern music blog? Shit no. He answers to nothing short of the intoxicating bleepy-bloopy sound of his future, reaped right from the bosom of mother earth herself. Probably going to invest in a denim shirt, stiff-cut jeans and a chill lil mustache. From what I gather, it is completely legal to trespass at various locations [farm, dumpster, national historic landmarks, a creek] as long as you bring your White Brand Metal Detector [might have to give some of your silver dollars, wedding rings, Sacajawea dollars, Civil War era Buffalo Nickels and golden horseshoes that you find to the land owner, I’m not positive yet about the ‘code of treasure hunting’]. Basically, being a metal detector-bro is the 2k10 version of being a black cowboy that is employed by the US government to stop the South from rising again in the late 1800s; you can do whatever you want, really.

Until you find your Rolex in the sand, you won’t be stopping.

-The Real Estates and Their Large Band

Might find a ring for my wife. She said that I needed a healthy hobby. She’s really proud of the weight I’ve lost [It’s also greatly enhanced our sex life. Actually a cute lil game we play to ‘get in the mood’ is when she puts on nothing but her mother’s morning dress and sexy Janet-Jack oddiyanam, which I found metal-detecting near the Alberta province of Canada. Next, I turn on the White’s Metal Detector and erotically search for her throughout the house/yard/publicpark while blindfolded.] Did you see how easily I shove my garden trowel into the ground to unearth yet another nugget of gold/Tone-Loc platinum plaque?

Do you even know how ripped I’ve gotten since I started using this metal detector?

Might go back to a beach in Southeast Asia where we ‘lost a few good men’ on the Dwight E. Eishenhower island-hop vacation plan. Here I am finding a locket of my HS sweetheart Elaine who got me through many lonely nights at war/gave me the clap and never told me when I was discharged.

Might start  a school for metal detectors or a father-son metal detecting program. Here is my grand-son and I unearthing $250K in gold bullion just near the TCBY parking lot in Meridian, Mississippi.

Recently got divorced and my wife ‘took everything’ but my White’sMD, my child predator frames, and my big red shirt. I’ve really entered a downward spiral since she left, not even heeding warnings on loose novelty mine shafts such as “Keep Out” [SKULL+CROSSBONES]. Thanks to White’s I can afford my alimony payments.

Can’t wait to get in zany/inappropriate relationships with the neighbor’s daughter. She has scoliosis and has to wear a giant metal [titanium/gold+platinum] back brace. I LOL every time we play this game.

I like to spend a few of my ‘gold nuggets’ and ‘1500s Swahili City-State merchant currency’ that I find in the sand on a smart snack, or three ;), at the Wendy’s 99cent menu. It’s hard work treasure hunting.

Basically, White’s Metal Detector has brought me everything I want in life. I drifted through my formative HS party years just ‘getting laid’ and ‘doing drugs’. I floated through my defining college years searching for authentic low priced domestic beer brands and joining social/political/frat/studentGOV groups that ‘represent me’ and doing designer drugs. I was lost when I got in a serious relationship with a tattoo artist from Brooklyn for 3 years and dropped out to learn about ‘love’ and ‘being a human afterall’ [she left with all my furniture and our cocker-spaniel, Quentin Compson-Wheeler]. Spent my mid-twenties working as a retail-assistant living out of my parents garage [like Mike Seaver at the end of “Growing Pains”] and running a relevant up-to-date blogspot featuring seamless weekend playlists and the latest underground Marxist-rap troupes.

But therein lies the rub. I can’t keep blogging ya’ll. Feel like I’m ‘giving up everything’ and getting ‘so precious little in return’. Feel like DBT today is kind of like how facebook was after they let in ‘your mom and uncle’ and stopped being exclusively for ‘hot new freshmen’. I am great OZYMANDIAS, The King of Kings; this mighty City shows the wonders of my hand.

While you’re waiting for that sound, apparatus to the ground, you’re stealing from the lost & found. What you’ll find ain’t what you had in mind.

-The Realest [es]State, Tennessee

So I think I’m going to focus on treasure hunting from here on out. Seems like it is a more rewarding hobby. I’ve gotta tell ya: a few weeks ago I saw the White’s metal detector ad on TV. In no time at all my local dealer had me out treasure hunting. I was finding the good stuff my first day. And the best part? You can see what’s in the ground before you dig it up. [your treasure hunting adventure can begin now, call 18005476911 for a free catalog]

Running this blog is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life and I did it all by myself with zero help. Kind of like Jesus Shuttlesworth and his dad practicing hoops in the wee hours of a Coney Island morning. From here on out I don’t want to be alone so I’m keeping my White’s Metal Detector on at all times. I’m headed out where I belong, in the wide open spaces of Anytown, USA. Thanks for everything y’all. I might start blogging again next week if my grandma sends me a check to keep my internet on or if I run out of D-Cell batteries for my metal detector.

Out, out brief candle!

-Gucci Mane

My Candle Burns at Both Ends,

It will not last the night,

But ‘oh’ my friends

And ‘ah’ my foes,

It gives a lovely light.

-Playboy Tre

You can try the best you can. The best you can is good enough.

-Death Before Taxes