It must be an omen of some kind to hear 3 Bee Gees songs in one day including an Andy Gibb. That’s like a flush, or something, or being lucky enough to own all the same size of wine glass – it’s like hitting the jackpot. My own personal jackpot of course, but who cares it’s worth points in some alternate universe where falsetto is not annoying, and disco balls don’t cause epileptic seizures after doing insane amounts of cocaine, and cheap golden medallions swimming in chest hair is not creepy. I didn’t even go outside a 1 mile radius of my house…well, except for when I came into town. But, still, what does it all mean to be visited thrice from the Brothers Gibb?
Shit! It’s 12:53 am. Time change, I shake my fists at you!
Will I share a similar fate where I will experience much more disappointment followed by an explosion of success, then followed by more disappointment and obscurity, and later parody. Ooooo, it’s so a roll of the dice; anybody’s guess.