A wee bit of hiatus by default due to a crashing netbook and a drowned cellphone - both self-healed, so all is good ... for now.
The break had me thinking about what to do with this blog. A hundred words is too limiting, and I won't be able to post photos of my meals (it's still a good way to track my diet though) if both netbook and cellphone died again.
So: where next? I discovered I'm registered at wordpress (and might give it a go if I were allowed to post videos), but might just stick with blogger.
We'll see!
Friday, June 04, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
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'.
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"?
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"?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
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.
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.
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!
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!
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