Tue 25 May 2010

10:49 - multigrain toast with strawberry jam, and black coffee.

Sun 23 May 2010

13:28 - toast with Nutella and strawberry jam, tuna-raisin melt, and black coffee.

Maybe it's as simple as B12.

Maybe that's what I need, instead of TIP-TOEING THE FUCK AROUND.

Came across this three-year old article (and this related piece) this morning, and couldn't recall a sad song I'd heard in recent years.

The only two songs of which lyrics made me sad when I first heard them as a kid raised on oldies, who didn't know who Michael Jackson was 'til 1993, were 'Tell Laura I Love Her' and 'Honey'.

	Ray Peterson - Tell Laura I Love Her .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

	Bobby Goldsboro - Honey .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Everything else after that just made me happily depressed to the point of suicide. What is a "sad song" anyway?

Songs sung blue, with a "cry in your voice"?

Thu 20 May 2010

10:27 - a tart C bought me from Le Moulin, three peanut-butter crackers, and black coffee.

Today's music: Margaret Leng Tan and the toy piano. Way adorable!

'Eleanor Rigby'


'Nothing is Real (Strawberry Fields Forever)'


'Dinky Toys'

When a vicious Brazilian wax job would feel like a mind-blowing orgasm in comparison.

Wed 19 May 2010 (Happy Jen's Birthday!)

09:35 - pain aux raisins (which C bought me from Le Moulin yesterday), and black coffee.

After yesterday's decision, I spent over five hours compulsively trawling through free and streaming tracks.

Not new music, not the newest and hottest [insert hip genre] music, but nice music - even a nice collection of digitized 78 RPMs and cylinder recordings.

I'm gonna cue this up every time I feel like a black-and-white silent weepy punctuated by kicks from a fat opium-puffing master before concluding with a hacked-up TB-ridden lung on a bloody white handkerchief:



Soundtrack of my life!

Tue 18 May 2010

10:48 - the last of the jambalaya, Salada crackers with Nutella, and black coffee.

Oye.

My back - it fucking hurts, and I can't bend over without whimpering.

It's that time of the month again when my uterus starts throwing tantrums like a two year old, fists banging and legs kicking, so that I feel as old and bloated as a geriatric whale.

And its partner in crime - the brain - keeps screaming to EAT MORE CHOCOLATE. MOOOOOARRRRR!

Seriously.

I only wish this were a parody of the effects of menstruation, but, alas, that stereotype is true.

I should start seeking out and listening to new music again.

My old darlings, I hope you're all still out there, and have not been (forced to or otherwise) shut down. I miss you, and I'm coming!

Other than watching Tough Love, I also got C hooked on Tool Academy. Tool Academy is Tough Love for men ... except - waitaminute! - can men really change?

It appears they can! And it's hysterical watching these jock-clowns tear, weep, and plea their way to conjugal nights and USD 100,000. (Could Tool Academy be a twenty-first century interpretation of Lysistrata? Maybe!)

And their nicknames, they're hilarious! Matsuflex? What's that supposed to be - a vacuum cleaner?!

Finally, the cherry on top of the icing: homoerotic sexiness!

I hope we get The Pickup Artist on free-to-air telly soon!

Mon 17 May 2010

10:55 - leftover jambalaya, and black coffee. (I'd been munching on caramel popcorn prior.)