Get it in a sling boy, get it in a sling.

I've been listening to this song repeatedly over the past three days while driving up Pacific Coast Highway towards Long Beach. Something about this jam triggers the dopamine in my brain and shoots me up."No one knows how your monkey goes/ No one knows how your monkey goes." It's probably one of the only happy-go-fucking-lucky songs I can jive to painlessly. It spits out a sense of urgent euphoria while disallowing one to forget the dystopia that still surrounds. It's a real treat for people like me who think too much - people who want to feel pleasure but don't want to completely dismiss from their minds the trouble of This Place. We can't let the difficulty of this irritable mess of a world go with a smile or a forgery of positivism. No, we just have to turn the radio up loud enough so that our minds can blend in with the upbeat charisma of bands like Clinic. Anyway, this is a brief but easy release for the intellectuals. Enjoy. Repeat.