I have been traveling a lot recently. I’ve flown to Dallas to visit a friend, Austin for a wedding, and most recently, I flew to Vegas to help a friend drive across the country to move to Jacksonville, Florida (of all places).

The 1975 is releasing new music, so I feel the need to explain to everyone who cares to listen about my internal struggle with their music.

​It all boils down to this one thing:

I was watching How I Met Your Father the other night. It’s not a great show, but I love the original. I’ve told myself I’m going to at least watch this first season because of my love for the original.

​In the most recent episode Leighton Meester guest stars. Now, if you’re not a millennial woman there’s a chance you don’t know who this is. Leighton Meester played Blair Waldorf in the teen soap opera Gossip Girl. And I thought, wow I haven’t seen or even thought about her in forever.

I listened to Tom Petty’s Wildflowers one morning last week amidst being up to my eyeballs in Annual Report form 10-Ks. If you don’t know what a 10-K is, consider yourself lucky.
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As I listened to Mr. Petty and the other Heartbreakers, I was reminded of an age-old debate amongst me and my friends. It hails all the way back to high school. To the days when John Mayer ruled the airwaves. It is the debate of whose version is better: Tom petty or John Mayer. I am going to travel back in time to the minds of the young Music Outlet Mall crew and break down this debate as we broke it down back then and then I will travel back to the future and compare it to how I feel now.

This story is 100% true. It’s probably my favorite story about my time in a band that I occasionally forget actually happened. This article started out as something completely different. What started out about Tom Delonge and work sucking got derailed pretty quickly.

​We start with a question and then the most bizarre story about my personal history with the porn industry.

This is 100% clickbait, but this is a foolproof guide to survive this year's Taylor Swift onslaught. 

I wrote about Cinders a couples months ago after the release of their single “Growing Up.” Now that their new third album No One’s Home has been out for a month and I’ve had time to properly digest it, I feel like it’s time for a full review. I'm kind of like a cow. I need to chew on a piece of music a lot, digest it a bit, regurgitate, and then chew on it some more. Much of this review will echo similar sentiments as my review of “Growing Up” not only because I’m a lazy piece of shit that likes to recycle my own material but also because this album is a master class of carrying the same feel and tone from beginning to end without feeling like all of the songs are the same.

I am going on a road trip starting Thursday. I need a break from my day job, from life, etc. I’m seriously considering quitting my job and moving to Costa Rica. I’ll still try to maintain the blog but not really sure you’re going to enjoy the local spotlights nearly as much. Anyway, here are 5 essentials for making a dope road trip playlist:

This post was inspired by all of the Lorde hate leading up to and upon the release of Solar Power. 

​I chose an edited version of her album cover because as Ed has pointed out in the group chat, “So much of Lorde’s bare ass this summer. Not good or bad. Callin how I see it it’s a high quantity of ass. And again not bad. But sometimes I feel like I can’t get away from Lorde’s ass this summer. Again not a bad thing. Not bad. Not. A. Bad. Thing.”

​We get it, Ed. Copious amount of Lorde’s ass. No drought of Lorde’s ass this summer. But not a bad thing. This still shows a little ass though.