This is a song that was written to help a friend of the songwriter's to chill out when she got anxious. The man who wrote the song put the basic track on the internet and asked people to sing along with it, and send the recordings to him. He mixed the results, and got this.
Friday 21 November 2008
We had a visit from a small mouse last night. I woke up several times, listening to him poke about in the house, wondering what he was doing, thinking of the piece of baklava I had bought from that lovely lovely Egyptian man who runs the falafel shop on Clark street. This morning I discovered my bag had been unlocked, opened, and there was an explosion of half-eaten baklava (that still looked deeply yummy) all over the bottom of it.
There were small mouse claw marks on my brown leather wallet. He had clearly used it as a perch from which to enjoy his baklava. It was a cold night last night. We had had some hot whiskeys, and I there was a little left in the bottom of one of the glasses on the counter, about half of that left this morning.
That mouse had a good time.
Monday 17 November 2008
So it's three o'clock in the day and I have spent hours farting around with the Lucy takes off template. Godammit. And now for a meaningless meander into Manhattan.
I hope this enhances your viewing and reading pleasure around here. Dishes of cigarettes to be passed around shortly.
Sunday 16 November 2008
There is no chocolate matter in the house that interests me. I have just eaten a banana. We also have apples. Revolution!
Ps. Please don't be scared off by the chocolate torte that tastes of meat. This is purely a subjective opinion, and I am quite sure that there are Trader Joe's afficionados out there who understand the chocolate torte aesthetic better than I ever could. If so, then write. Time is ticking on...
Pps. Heather, I know you want this cake. It is yours. Email me about it if you need to be discreet.