Kevin's Watch

Whew...I was nervous there for a bit.
Good idea, wayfriend!

Admit it. You were afraid WF was gonna stop doing this forever and I'd end up being more famous than you because I won the last Wayfriendie!

But, dAN, you're already more famous than me!

Well, the Watchies hiatus is over, and I have another 1000, so here goes.

This Week's Contest

The Watchies came, the Watchies went. Many didn't win. Many weren't nominated. Many got spam e-mail that they had to delete. At suffrin' times like this, yuz gotta sing the blues.

• I woke up in the morning, and still ain't nominated
  Yeah, I woke up this morning, and wasn't even nominated
  It's all Menolly's fault, she sent spam that everyone hated

This week's contest will be: pick a Donaldson character -- any one -- and sing us a blues song like he/she would sing if they had a beat up guitar, knew three chords, and let all their bitter anger and depression out. A whole song, not just one verse.

Wikipedia wrote:Most commonly, lyrics are in three lines, with the first two lines almost the same with slight differences in phrasing and interjections.

• I hate to see the evening sun go down,
  Yes, I hate to see that evening sun go down
  'Cause it makes me think I'm on my last go 'round

The winner will be picked on next Friday, and entries will be accepted until the winner is announced. Entries will be judged based on humor, cleverness, an understanding of this unique musical genre, and havin' got dem blues. And, as always, audience participation is encouraged, necessary, and appreciated.

Lot's of extra points if you upload an MP3 of your performance. Lots and lots and lots. Even if it's a capella.

Hurtloam Hotel


Well, since my Thelma beat me,
And the bruises began to swell.
I went out back to the nearest Waymeet
Known as Hurtloam Hotel.

You make me so lonely Thelma,
I get so lonely,
I get so lonely I could die.

And although it's always crowded,
You still can find some room.
Where broken-boned lovers
Do cry away their doom.

You make me so lonely Thelma,
I get so lonely,
I get so lonely I could die.

Well, the Heartthrall's tears keep flowin',
And the Ur-Viles’ dressed in black.
Well they been so long the old Waymeet
They ain't ever gonna look back.

You make me so lonely baby,
I get so lonely,
I get so lonely I could die.

Hey now, if your baby beats you,
And you need something to get you well.
Just take a walk out back to the nearest Waymeet
Known as Hurtloam Hotel.

Oh, excellent, dAN.
Can't wait to see more entries.

wayfriend wrote:

• I woke up in the morning, and still ain't nominated
  Yeah, I woke up this morning, and wasn't even nominated
  It's all Menolly's fault, she sent spam that everyone hated

*wince*
...a shame Pern Masterharpers aren't eligible...

Good one, dAN!

Song lyrics are not my forte. Blues lyrics even less so.
Will see what rubbish I can think up...

Empty Land

Watch that Sun o' Rain with tears down my face
Oh watch that Sun o' Rain, with tears down my face

Sometimes it feels like the Rede is red violent
Sometimes it feels like nobody cares
Sometimes it feels like I'm in an empty Land
And there's nothin' for people to share

As I watch the village lights flicker
Like the dying embers of your love
Yea, watchin' the lights flicker
Like the dyin' embers of your love

Sometimes it feels like we never knew love
Who cares if the world fell
I got no interest in a-Jeroth and his damn Hells
Cos I'm a lonely Graveler
Yea I'm a lonely Graveler

As I lay me down to sleep
All the little bugs and gnats
That would come bite all the lovers
They just pass me by
Yea yea yea

Even in my dreams
Vivid colours turn to grey
Yea, even in dreams
All colour turns to grey

And I turn to you and I ask
How can I make things better
And you say it's gone, it's gone, it's over
So I stand outside with just my orcrest
And I watch the Sun o' Rain set
Yea I watch the Sun o' Rain set
With tears down my face

(With apologies to Joan Armatrading)

Fine posts by dAN and 'Man.

But it'd be a shame to let them fight over the prize, just the two of them, wouldn't it?

Hint: someone who writes a new blues song might have an advantage over those who adapt an existing one.

Step up!

wayfriend wrote:someone who writes a new blues song might have an advantage over those who adapt an existing one.

Fine, whatever.

White Gold Wielder Blues

I got the blues
The White Gold Wielder blues
Nuthin’ left to lose
White Gold Wielder blues

Met a girl, made me glad
Went crazy, hurt her bad
Life’s full of bad news
White Gold Wielder blues

People call me Half-hand
Beg me to save the Land
But beggers can’t choose
White Gold Wielder blues

Wanted to pay my bills
Ended up gettin’ killed
Hella way to pay my dues
White Gold Wielder blues

Vote!

(Yes, I am late!)

Pretty slim pickings
He who *was* dAN wrote the best
It's Hurtloam Hotel

Hurtloam Hotel for the win.

I guess Hurtloam Hotel is "bluesier" but I like the nihilistic feel of White Gold Wielder Blues.

My wife accused me of being a narcissist, right before she became my ex-wife. One day, after I've tired of thinking about myself, I'll have to look up what that word means. Then again, if it were an important word, I'd probably use it.

"White Gold Wielder Blues" gets my vote.

My vote's for Hurtloam Hotel, not for myself, but for my co-writers, Tommy Durden, and Mae Boren Axton, who didn't get the recognition they deserved for writing the original version.



Or they did, and I just forgot.


In which case I'm just voting for myself.


And my ex called me narcissistic, not nihilistic.

Maybe she said "forgetful."

I vote for Hurtloam Hotel. If anything because it incorporates The King into The Land.

Ain't No Laughin' Matter
by DukkhaWaynhim

I'm a-sittin' here in the Slay, lava down my throat
Got nothin' but ashes in my heart no-how 'cause down here, don't nothin' float...
No it ain't no laughin' matter, all-my-peo--ple's dead,
No it ain't no laughin' matter, all-my-joy has fled.

Done thrown away that leper, left him to his task
not sure what he think he doin', but don't care 'nuff to ask...
No it ain't no laughin' matter, all-my-tears have gone.
No it ain't no laughin' matter, Des-pi-ser's done had his fun.

My laughter is gone, a painful memory.
My laughter is gone, cause there ain't nothin left for me.
For meeeeeeeee. For me.
For meeeeeeeeee. Nothin' left for me.

No it ain't no laughin' matter, no more boats to sail.
No it ain't no laughin' matter, I done found my place in Hell.

No it ain't no laughin' matter
--at least it ain't for me.