written composed and "sung" by v

a fictional trip into the eyes of a mentally unstable high school student through lo-fi acoustic songs recorded on a webcam

short haired silver people

we noticed you smile a lot for your age...

help i am dreaming of hypothetical infidelity from someone i don't love the way you don't want me to

i never said i worship her i'm just very fond of the ground on which she walks

track 4 off "leggo"
written and composed by vince

i saw your lowercase lol
and i concluded that that’s a sarcastic response to a mess that didn’t end well
i saw all your indirect social media posts
and i detect a sense of melancholy when examined close
they said
“i hope you get cheated when you don’t count your change
and i hope you get more money back than you paid
i hope your laptop crashes and your files are unsaved
and i hope you end up finding them on autosave
i hope you sneeze in church and someone blesses you
i hope your car breaks down and someone rescues you
i hope you sprain your ankle but it heals in a day
i hope your bedroom lights on fire and they carry you away
i hope you lose by one vote in your school’s election
i hope you poke out your left eye but retain your depth perception
i hope you stop all the rumors of you i’m spreading about
i’d hope you’d get an std but that’s not something to joke about
i hope somebody else loves you and you never find out
i hope you never figure out what this song is about
i hope you end up with someone unattainable
i hope you never find out you’re replaceable
girl what he do
g i r l w h a t h e d o

lol (girl what he do)

"flexin" by $$$$$ (pronounced "v-money no substitutions")

i regret nothing

shoutout to fogata ily boo

i go to yogurtland but not for the froyo
i go often when i’m hiding from the po po
sunglasses and a hood, sippin cocoa
most of the time it tastes so-so
you a unicycle you got no handles
catch me at bed bath and beyond sniffing candles
first i steal your girl’s heart then we steal costco samples
then i break your girl’s heart then i break your ankles
call you pyongyang, your bombs are an anomaly
call me john yang cuz i’m what’s going on this week
i’m a diddly darn savage
i eat hawaiian pork with no cabbage
slide into your canvas dms
then i ask your little brother to play club penguin
and we play way past ten pm
and it ain’t even the weekend
bababababa
call you jerry seinfeld yadda yadda yadda
skipping through your songs like tralalalala
deck the halls with boughs of holly falalalala
looks like we’re caught up in a juicy pickle
you can’t touch me and i don’t wanna be tickled
you wanna hear something bad
i’ve never seen spongebob, but i know you got krusty krabs
the hood call me v money no substitutions
not even ketchup, mustard, relish, fries, or onion
maybe happiness is an illusion fabricated by naïve perceptions laden with contusions
*something something something*
i just ate some chicken off the bone yum yum yum
haters call me fake but is anything even real
calling out fogata, hashtag free trappy meal

flexin (a throwback from dec 2015)

cheer up mr. frankenstein
i know you’re not the real monster
i know you must be frustrated
with those kids in green costumes and unibrows and bolts in their heads
sometimes my mother calls me by my brother’s name
so if you don’t think too hard about it we’re on the same page
get it, mr. frankenstein
i know you’re just a work of fiction
but i’ve analyzed the syntax and i’ve analyzed the diction
of mary shelley’s telling of your story,
nobody knows you quite like i do
and i see you crack a smile as we pull up in the drive-thru
screw you ronald mcdonald
did you know obesity rates have gone up by 3.3 percent
because of you ronald mcdonald
i don’t mean to point my fingers but your chicken fingers are a mess
but, ronald mcdonald
call me a hypocrite, but every time i exercise
i still go to mcdonald’s
and buy some nuggets and a soda and a burger and fries
but this is for mr. frankenstein
i’m stopping by to get him some food so i can cheer him up
so let’s skip the pantomime
and can i get a number 3 combo with a medium cup
of orange fanta, i
think that’s all we’ll be getting, but we’ve noticed your
strikingly obvious lack of eye 
contact, i know you’re scared	
but he’s not the monster you want him to be
he’s not the monster you want him to be

cheer up mr frankenstein

just because i think you’re cool
doesn’t mean you get me hot and bothered
every time we end up alone
at the bleachers of the football field
of your dad’s old high school
listening to “never meant”
and we’re too smart for basing choices on young adult novels
too old for comfort, too young for nostalgia 
i caught you on the freeway on the way to the airport
turning heads in traffic jams
i don’t ever want to miss you
i just want to get sugar high with you on krispy kreme donuts
so i can listen to you ramble on about the future
in two-thousand-and-whatever
just because i think you’re cool
just because i think you’re cool
just because i think you’re cute
doesn’t mean i talk about you daily
so you’re the only one who knows ‘cause it’s subject
to misinterpretation, you know how it goes
when our best friends feed off hearsay
do you ever want to kiss me like a dude
after i compliment your nails as an excuse to hold them
and if the answer’s “yes” then i’ll have to decline
but if it’s “no” the term is yours to define
i don’t always think about you
i just want to sneak out with you at midnight and get in-n-out milkshakes
and maybe you’ll teach me to forget
the kids that made me forget how to love myself
i don’t always listen to modern baseball
but when i do the neighbors play it with my windows
but at least you have a way to sneak in without permission
but only if you want to

getting milkshakes

can i be your knight in shining pajamas in a semi-platonic way
(that’s not a euphemism or anything
i just don’t feel like leaving home today)
so i’ll just think about you on the toilet
sit there for hours even when i don’t have to go
and wonder if you’re doing the same
(you’re probably not, but just in case)
you can tell me if i’m the subject of the nightmares you talk about
you’re the subject of my songs in case you couldn’t figure it out
you can spin me like a raw egg
if we end up together inside your head
like hopeless me romantic you
hopeless me romantic you
talk talk to me, if you insist
but i’m just an anticonversationalist
you make me colon parenthesis
and i’m just another anticonversationalist
talk talk to me, ‘cause i exist
i’m just an anticonversationalist
i don’t wanna be a strikethrough on your list
i wanna be your anticonversationalist
and i’m screaming into voice mailboxes of numbers i don’t know
that my collarbones are still coated in your lip balm from two imaginary nights ago
when i dreamed about us laying on the couch
watching a star wars sequel that hadn’t come out yet
so we watched it on 123movies illegally instead
but i’m scared of seeing you again and running out of things to talk about with you
and i’m so scared of seeing you alone i want to be the corner you cry to
‘cause you’re so rad and you’re so sweet and we’d get along and holy shit
but it’s just passive me aggressive you
passive me aggressive you
talk talk to me, if you insist
but i’m just an anticonversationalist
you make me colon parenthesis
and i’m just another anticonversationalist
talk talk to me, ‘cause i exist
i’m just an anticonversationalist
i don’t wanna be a strikethrough on your list
i wanna be your anticonversationalist
i’ve seen you at the chinese place and you’re eating right
i take out my depression on a microwaved pizza slice
when i pretend you’re sleeping over, i sleep on my right
even though it’s bad for my spine
you’re the type to kiss your own reflection
and i would too if i was in that position
and by “that position”, i mean kiss your reflection
like literally yours, not mine
so they told me to shoot my shot, i hope you’re the right basket
but my open mouth is my open casket
and all i could find was a spice girls classic
to describe what’s on my mind
so tell me what you want what you really really want
tell me what you want what you really really want
tell me what you want what you really really want
is an anticonversationalist 
talk talk to me, if you insist
but i’m just an anticonversationalist
you make me colon parenthesis
and i’m just another anticonversationalist
talk talk to me, ‘cause i exist
i’m just an anticonversationalist
i don’t wanna be a strikethrough on your list
i wanna be your anticonversationalist

anticonversationalist

all songs written and composed by vince f

the comedy show (interlude)

san pedro

tiny pieces

I died a little when you asked of me
What’s so cool about the arts and the humanities
So I took you to the art museum exit
Confess I only liked you for the aesthetic
I’d shoot my chances but you’d shoot me down
But if you shoot me a glance I’m gonna shoot a photo of it
And I’ll drop the pictures and I’ll drop my jaw
And you’ll drop me promptly and I’ll drop a song about it
And if they ask me what’s crackalackin
I’ll keep it all inside
I’ve got your number on my phone
Set on speed dial number 9
I wrote a page about you on Wikipedia
As in the free encyclopedia
That anyone can edit, hosted by the Wikimedia Foundation, Incorporated
I don’t wear jeans
And I don’t like shoes
And I don’t like many things
But I like you
And I like trees
And I like food
I like a lot of things
But that doesn’t mean I think less about you
And I know it sounds ironic, possibly moronic
But I only wanna kiss you if you take it as platonic
If my face turns red, I’ll just let you know
It’s just the dust from the crumbs of my Hot Cheetos
And I don’t really mind if you don’t listen to my music
I’m just down to hang like we’re in Salem, Massachusetts
We can be like Carrie by Stephen King
And we can bring this party down
I say “you’re cute”
You say “I know”
I say “I think I like you”
You say “thanks bro”
And I leave you on read
With my hands behind my head
Patiently awaiting reciprocation but instead
I text you hey
You say what’s up
I ask you what you doin’
Not much
And I say cool
And that’s that
And you don’t even hit me with the “Where you at”
I was talking with your mom the other day
At the Safeway parking lot
She said “do you like my daughter”
And I almost said a lot
Then I thought yeah I should tell her
So I told her “yeah a lot”
And she told me “well she likes you too”
And I’m like holy fuck
I mean I’m like holy shit
I mean I’m like oh my god 
I mean I’m like oh my gosh
I mean I think I forgot
What I said right after that
But I do know that
Your mom looked at me up and down
And nodded and just smiled
What was that supposed to mean?
Did she silently judge me?
Just because I don’t work out
And my posture tends to slouch
Does she think you have low standards
What was that stuff all about?
I almost turned away but then she stopped me in my tracks
And said “I thought you were gay, it’s just the way that you seem”
I said “what’d you think the bi in bisexual means”
And she said “I look at her and I look at you”
And she paused for a little and said “you’ll do”
‘Cause you don’t wear jeans
And you don’t like shoes
And you don’t like many things
But I like you
And you like trees
And you like food
You like a lot of things
But that doesn’t mean I think less about you

What's Crackalackin

My Best Friend's Boyfriend

wee woo wee woo im the dance police

-vince

Dance Police

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