Interesting. Hmm..










With the stinkin' A's and D's.
With a bluddy solo reckoning.
With fingers clamming up, freezing like via contact with liquid nitrogen.

Black Keys.
C- Naught
D- F#, C#
E- F#, G#, C#, D#
F- Bb
G- F#
A- F#, G#, C#
B- Everything of Which.

Who picks the songs?
Grunge does'nt appeal to me.
The electric guitar screaming like it's been gagged.
The reportiore of which borders on deafening.
The drums with a mormon sandying it.
The one in 3 weeks chance I get to play. Really play.
There is nothing to play.

And As Ever So Often. I cannot complain.





China. Ka zac stan. Uz bek is tan.
Where next?
At least there is a cool stamp in one's passport.
I dare not interfere.
It's just that I cannot help being concerned on a 50 year old man travelling to uzbek and
Kazac alone.
And my Mother travelling which.
I can only pray.

Villages in Mountains.
I'm sent there.
May be a blessing in disguise.
I don't know what to expect. Right now?
A village with water drawn from wells.
Might even be true.

Haha.
Cheers.

Ho Wei - 14/04/89
PKC, TP, BUS
Reuben's Blog

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