Cutebuster du Jour

You thought I forgot about cutebusters, didn't you?  Well, you're right. Free your inner nerd.

No Varlets or Harlots Here

It's more than a crush most definitely, more than a passing fancy I hope.  Let's be bold and say this is no Morrissey and Siouxsie Interlude.  I am so happy and this intoxicating precipice is terrifying. 

What Do You Do?

What do you do with an old smoker's lighters now that the old smoker is dead?  This, my darlings, is a play on that phrase, "What do you do with an old woman's shoes now that the old woman is dead" but I can't for the life of me remember from where it comes.  Do you?

Not to dawdle but today marks Day 6 in my quest to quit smoking and forever abandon my beloved tobacco sticks.  It's fucking hell as my usual modus operandi after a shitty work day like today is to make love to my music collection and write nonsense on this old blog with lots of wine and lots of smoking for company.  Instead I've been stuffing my face with anything I can get my hands on and by stuffing I mean food, not fellatio unfortunately, though undoubtedly the latter would far more greatly benefit my waistline and my ego.

Until this shit storm passes and I can drink wine or enjoy a bar again without the uncontrollable compulsion to suck nicotine from the mouth of my fellow bar patrons, I'll be holing up with lots of books for company.  Here are 3 I picked up just today...

Long time lover of Murakami, I'm hoping at least half of these stories mention whiskey, cigarettes, sex and ears.

In one afterlife you may find that God is the size of a microbe and is unaware of your existence. In another, your creators are a species of dim-witted creatures who built us to figure out what they could not. In a different version of the afterlife you work as a background character in other people’s dreams. Or you may find that God is a married couple struggling with discontent, or that the afterlife contains only those people whom you remember, or that the hereafter includes the thousands of previous gods who no longer attract followers. In some afterlives you are split into your different ages; in some you are forced to live with annoying versions of yourself that represent what you could have been; in others you are re-created from your credit card records and Internet history.... 

 

Author of Stiff, The Curious Lives of Corpses.  It's a funny sciency approach to sex.

UM NEED I SAY MORE?!

 

Glam Crush

I'm crushing so hard on 1970s groupies right now I can't even stand it.  Shray Mecham, Sable Starr, Lori Maddox... ladies I love your hair.

Also pure lust for Blondie and her outfit.

Turning Japanese

Happy happy happy to yours truly.  I'm loving Pastel Blue so much but sadly have yet to find a US distributor for their split with Sugardrop Eternity in Moment.  If any of you lovely obliging readers would like to wish me a happy birthday, please let me in on the apparently secret means of procuring this lovely lovely Japanese shoegaze piece of happy.

It's a measure of my esteemed prepubescent sense of humor that I can't help humming The Vapors.

Happy birthday me!

Ytube 
Soundcloud
Pastel Blue

Russian Baths

Spooky moments.  I thought of him and he appeared.  

We talked of Turkish/Swedish/Russian Baths and subsequent cannibalistic terrors.  An absolute Dearest and one who despite distance and time understands the Crushing Depression and a shared love of ridiculous Asshole remarks.  I love him so, my darling Alien and we inevitably synchronistically see each other at transitional liminal interludes in our lives.  In those too brief moments I am home.

Thank you Universe.  Thank you for reminding me that relinquishing the square peg round hole dilemma was the right choice.

Desert Sessions - Crawl Home

  

The Durutti Column - Home

  

If It Ain't Broke...

Annie Lennox circa Eurythmics was hot as fuck.

I think her voice and those songs were the first time I actually felt lust.  Even before I saw her face, I just knew she was a force.   In my memory it is night time.  The raindrops sweeping across the backseat window of my mom's Datsun hatchback are illuminated neon lightning white by streetlights and my stomach muscles tighten into a cold coil at the sound of that sultry frictioned intro.  

Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams

Remember Datsuns?  They went the way of cassette tapes. 

Slowly Unravels

Hold my hands to my heart and hope for a miracle while the rest of me continues to swirl into oblivion.  My two favorite artists together... unraveling.

Thom Yorke - Unravel [Bjork cover, Pocket Remix]

image via Marie-Claire Redon

What Origins?

I have absolutely no idea how, when or through where a lot of music I've collected originates but that's half the fun as I stumble through my altogether helter skelter haphazard music wardrobe.  Et puis?  Gems like this surface.

Miro Miroe - Nights of Arabia

* Today I started reading Helter Skelter: The True Story of The Charles Manson Murders.  Favorite quote so far? Murder, death, bodies, blood! 

** New music player, bear with me as I muddle through the bugs.