Quack Quack, Waddle Waddle

I love being able to track how people are getting here. It’s how I know there are so many other Mrazonistas out there, and how I know I have more than one fan in my base. If they can be called fans. They may be more like curious observers. For example, I just found this post on another blog:

Next, Bushwalla took over the stage. I don’t just mean he took his turn, I mean he took the stage over his knee and he owned that bitch. He reached into the darkest, smelliest corners of the venue, sucked every person there into his time-music vortex and made us love him.

— from Curbside Prophecies. I can’t get over this blog. It’s like the author is a duckling and JM is her mother duck, and she was imprinted at “Curbside Prophet” and never let go. but she also says everything that I wish I could say without appearing too obsessive/creepy. Also, she goes to more of his concerts than I could ever dream of. please, take me with you!

My dear, I would happily take you with me if I had a sugar daddy infrastructure in place to support that kind of generosity. For now, I will take your words as a compliment, despite the feathery implications. Mraz is a bit like mother duck with the rest of us scurrying behind him, eventually learning to cross the street on our own and going our own ways. So I’m good with the duck analogy.

Plus, if I was a duckling, I think I’d have a cute quack and a very sexy little waddle.


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