Thursday, September 3, 2009

Things that please me, 09/03/09: Jamie T, Donald Fagen, Catholic sex, and '63 lady style that moves all the boys

1. This Jamie T Buy My Album Please It's Dropping on Sept. 8 promo video and all the Brit wackiness contained therein. I keep watching it but I do it in a really foxy, non-creepy way. Promise.

That the Cuervo gollllld part in "Hey Nineteen" and how it is impossibly dope and how it is the best and the perfect soundtrack to summer going bye-bye. Sometimes I forget about the magic of Fagen in 1980 and then I have to keep listening to Gaucho over and over (but in a really foxy, non-creepy way).

3. The
Prayer Before Making Love, composed by church group the Catholic Truth Society.

I'm still waiting to hear what Jesus thinks of this. He has not yet returned my call.

... Place within us love that truly gives, tenderness that truly unites, self-offering that tells the truth and does not deceive, forgiveness that truly receives, loving physical union that welcomes ...

The new prayer "is aimed at 'purifying intentions' so that the act is not about selfishness or hedonism," the Daily Mail reports.

"How bout one or the other, then? Both would be ideal, but the name of the game is compromise," HeightFiveSeven reports.

4. The fact that eating at night will help me gain weight, even though I already knew this and I thought scientists already knew this so, really, why are we still studying this, scientists? The news is still encouraging to me, though, because everybody knows I was actually supposed to be 10 lbs thicker than I am at this exact moment in time, like the Joan Holloway of K-Town, sonnn.
Ergo, pizza and ice cream for dinner. At 11 tonight.

I already have the body geometry (thx Mom); I just need more smoking, office sex, extra pounds on my frame, and that fierce gold pen in order for the transformation to be complete. I don't care for my hair up, though.
The hair stays down.

Attention everyone in my general vicinity, I no longer want you to hear "Hey Love" or the first 15 seconds of "Electric Relaxation" in your head when you see me enter the room. From now on, I insist that it's this one:

Muddy Waters - "She Moves Me"


“I take her to a funeral boy, the dead jumped up to run.”


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