V: The Fallout

For about a week afterwards, everything was fine. I didn’t regret it (I still don’t) and Leslie was still being cool about it. Then her friends got involved. Turns out she’d been speaking to her friends in London about it, and they’d put all these negative thoughts and ideas in her head about the whole situation. So one day she came home and decided that she didn’t wanna be friends anymore. For a month we were tangled up in an on/off friendship – sometimes she was super nice and chummy, and other times she was bitter and snappy. She went and told absolutely everybody she could think off, half who heard my side of the story out and took my side, and the other half who barely even fucking know me and made snap judgments.
Casanova got no flack.

I literally to this day still keep hearing about completely new people who know about it – some who I’ve never even met. The whole self-pity thing is very much a Leslie thing. When she gets done wrong, the whole world has to sympathize. Yeah I fucked up, but I never ever played the pity card. All I did was tell my side of the story and admit that I was in the wrong. Because I was you know. She used to like him and I slept with him in the room right next door where she could hear everything. But that was the old me you know. My philosophy used to be: “act now, apologize later”. If the outcome of doing something was satisfaction for me, then it was always worth doing regardless of who got hurt. I like to think I’ve changed a lot since then.

Casanova and I barely spoke afterwards. I saw him in the smoking area of a bar in town. He had a new girlfriend. She wasn’t even that good-looking. They seemed pretty loved up but I knew it wasn’t gonna last. I know him.
They broke up a couple months ago, he got back in touch and here we are now. I still haven’t slept with him again but I came so close so many times. Literally in a single day I’d ask him to come over and then cancel on him repeatedly. I’m surprised he’s stuck at it for so long.
There was a period of time where he would call me drunk and just say all this crazy stuff about how through with life he was. Other times he would text me around 6am and tell me how lonely he was. It was so strange. Then I started to confide in him; at this point I was seeing Muscle and getting restless, so I told Casanova and he told me he understood and I began to understand how incredibly similar we are. I told Leslie we were back in contact and she acted like she was fine but I knew she wasn’t. For over a year she had been trying to get Casanova to confide in her about his issues but to no avail, yet here he was dishing up his emotions on a platter to me who didn’t even have to ask.

What happens next? I don’t know. Our last exam is this Friday and so we’ll just have to wait and see if he gets in touch. Somehow though, I feel like this whole Casanova saga is far from over. Whenever I feel like I’ve cut ties with him, he sucks me in all over again.

When will it end?

I am in love with Ezra Koenig.

Listen to the single STEP from the new album, modern vampires of the city, HERE

In other musical news,
I also purchased the soundtrack to Baz Luhrmans The Great Gatsby.
I haven’t seen the film yet, although I am excited to see it soon when it’s less busy- how I loathe the idea of sitting in a crowded theatre surrounded by the proles!! (Joking, of course, I just haven’t had the time yet, and Star Trek and Iron Man 3 have taken priority so far, because that’s the kinda girl I am…)

SO, yes, the soundtrack.
Florence- amazing as ever, although I did find that her vocals were quiet, caged in the backround for a lot of the track, as though the music was to take precedence over her. Florence should not be quietened. Florence is a force of nature, a sheer wall of vocal strength, she is not to be trifled with. Her voice should be the driving force of the track, and instead is a little distant. It upsets me slightly. A great song none the less, but then you expect nothing less from Florence.

Lana Del Ray- hmm… A great song, it’s still in my head now, but I would have liked a little more power in it in terms of vocals. A key change or some kind of vocal crescendo, just something!! Lana has a beautiful voice, capable of both deep/smoky sounds and pure, angelic high notes. Where were those high notes?
Maybe I’m just hard to please today. I blame Ezra.

Shockingly, the track from the album I have on repeat at the moment is Andre 3000 and Beyonce with their rendition of Amy Winehouse’ Back to Black.
There has been a mixed reaction to this. Mitch Winehouse wants the track removed from the album and the film. He thinks that it does nothing for the song, and that Amy would have hated it.
I am a huge Amy fan. And I can’t stand bad covers. But I love this. I think it’s a great song to use in this kind of story- love, lust, regret etc.
And I think Beyonce and Andre 3000 do it really well. They don’t try and copy it- nobody could do what Amy did better than her, and they accept it. Instead they take the emotion in the song- the darkness and emptiness- and express it in a completely new way. The hollow, droning synth and sparse, demure vocals convey the same heartache, the same betrayal and loss.
I am so pleasantly surprised by this cover. I think Amy would love it too, and be honoured by a tribute from an equally accomplished singer such as Beyonce- the fact that she tones down her usually forceful and strong vocal capabilities show her respect for the song, and for Amy.

Listen HERE

And, of course, Amy’s beautiful original
HERE

In Amy Winehouse – The Untold Story, author Chloe Govan detailed how the five-time Grammy winner tried to kill herself after her dad, Mitch Winehouse, left her mother Janis for another woman when she was aged nine.

“Within just months of reaching double figures, Amy’s anxiety had reached fever pitch,” Govan writes. “She’s already been slashing her arms and wrists with compasses, razor blade and shards of glass — but the worse was yet to come.”

An anonymous Winhouse friend told the biographer: “Amy was such a smiley, happy girl on the surface — maybe she was a good actress as well as a good singer — so it came as a surprise. I only knew how bad things had become when she overdosed.

PHOTOS: Amy Winehouse’s Lost Childhood Photos

“That day, I found Amy clutching her stomach in agony. She started foaming at the mouth and her eyes were rollings. It was easily the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. She’s overdosed on pills because she didn’t want to live. She told me she’d wanted to go for a long sleep.

“I stayed with her until it worse off because she begged me not to tell anyone. Plenty of people would say I was a bad friend for not raining the alarm but I was truly scared.”‘ Lamented the pal, “When I asked her what had made her do it, she said it was nothing and she’d just been strupid. She swore blind it was the last time.”

The Back To Black singer was found dead at her apartment in London in June 2011. She was 27.

According to Govan, Winehouse’s troubles began at a very early age. While she sometimes spent weekend giving her beloved grandmother pedicures, the book revealed “there was another side to her — perhaps borne out of childhood trauma — that she struggled to control.”

PHOTOS: Amy Winehouse Through The Years

“Amy had some gorgeous childhood friends that she couldn’t quite complete with,” the same friend, who did not want to be named, said.

“She blossomed into a real beauty in her late teens, but earlier on she hadn’t really grown into her looks. She was seen as a bit of an ugly ducking and she felt awkward around some of the others. It didn’t help that she never cared for tidiness, so by the end of the day she would look like a scarecrow. She was still a cute child, but she told me on more than occasion that she felt ugly.”

Notes the author: “Feeling increasingly alienated from the preteen pageant queens and pink-adorned princesses clutching Barbie dolls — on Amy’s part, she’d rather have been mutilating one than playing with it — she fell into depression.”

It had previously been thought that Winehouse’s drug problem hadn’t began until she met her future husband, Blake Fielder-Civil, however Govan traced it back to her parent’s split.

PHOTOS: Take A Peek Inside The Home Where Amy Winehouse Tragically Died

“By tradition, most Jewish families are very close-knit and a value is put on seeming respectable. Divorce is considered shameful, so when Amy went through a lot of pain at her parents’ separation,” the friend said.

“She might have put on a front like she didn’t care, but to her, seeing her father leave her for another woman was the ultimate abandonment.

The friend concluded: “As Amy grew up, things didn’t get much better and actually the divide between her and these types of good Jewish families got even bigger. By ten she’d had her first spliff and, in some people’s eyes, was on a bit of a road to ruin.”

If you, or anyone you know, is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please immediately seek help — you can speak with a skilled, trained counselor at a national Suicide Prevention Lifeline crisis center in your area, anytime 24/7 — call 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

For those who want a good mix of today’s hits and classic summer jams from the 90′s till now, this playlist is for you. The mix includes all the summer hits, from Icona Pop’s sassy “I Love It” to Weezer’s classic beach theme “Island in the Sun” and Sheryl Crow’s classic “Soak Up the Sun.” There’s Justin Timberlake’s “Summer Love” and “Rock Your Body” and Katy Perry’s “California Girls.” There’s the new hits from Selena Gomez, Demi Lovato, Kelly Clarkson and Daft Punk. There’s even Fleetwood Mac’s new hit “Sad Angle” featured on their current summer tour setlist.

For those who want a more classic summer playlist, look no further. From the iconic summer songs of the Beach Boys, to 80′s hits from Madonna, Whitney Houston, and Billy Joel, this playlist will satisfy the nostalgic heart of anyone craving a retro summer. Some highlights include “California Dreamin’” by the Mama’s and the Papas, “Summertime” by Ella Fitzgerald and “Time of the Season” by The Zombies.

Now who’s ready for summer 2013?!

A new mix for you internets, get this down ya. One whole hour of the most alcoholic rap songs I could think of.

http://www.mixcloud.com/fil1/happy-hour-mix-dj-fil-one/

But this was ripped from the radio, so I am sorry for the talking.

FYI, East Village Radio is Mark Ronson’s radio show. He liked the song so much that he premiered it on his show, which is pretty cool. Ronson co-wrote and produced the original.

Johnny Cash — “A Boy Named Sue”

It’s surprisingly serious in its own way, but still, this song also retains the power to elicit a hearty guffaw or two, nearly half a century after it was recorded. Its conclusion is one of the great lyrical payoffs of all time, and Cash delivers the key lines with impeccable comedic timing.

Best bit: “Bill! Or George! Or anything but Sue!”

LCD Soundsystem — “Losing My Edge”

Smart, self-deprecating, funny, witty… Ah, James Murphy, the music world isn’t quite the same without you.

Best bit: “I hear you’re buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your computer out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazz record!”

Tiny Tim — ”Santa Claus Has Got the Aids This Year”

So wrong. So, so, so wrong. And yet so undeniably hilarious.

Best bit: “Each season is full of pep and vim/ But now the aids has got the best of him”

Jens Lekman — ”The Cold Swedish Winter”

You could pick plenty of Lekman songs here — his desert-dry sense of humor is one of the most appealing features of his songwriting. Still, it’s hard to beat this track off When I Said I Wanted to Be Your Dog, which manages to poke fun at people’s perceptions of Sweden while still functioning as a rather poignant love song.

Best bit: “When people think of Sweden, I think they have the wrong idea/ Like Cliff Richard, who thought it was just porn and gonorrhea”

Frank Zappa — ”Bobby Brown Goes Down”

Ditto Frank Zappa, perhaps the only man in history to combine bona fide musical genius with the sort of warped sense of humor that gave us songs like “Titties and Beer” and “Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow.” His finest comedic moment, however, was this evisceration of American frat-boy types (it’s got nothing to do with the rapper Bobby Brown, who was only ten when this song was released).

Best bit: “I can take about an hour on the tower of power/ As long as I get a little golden shower”

Two Nice Girls — ”I Spent My Last $10 (On Birth Control and Beer)”

An upbeat country ditty about the woes of exchanging exuberant lesbianism for “the love of a strong hairy man.” Of course it’s funny.

Best bit: “There’s certain thrills that lesbian love simply cannot supply/ Like paying for abortions from sperm gone awry!”

The Mountain Goats — ”Cubs in Five”

Aww. Only John Darnielle could turn a meditation on the ineptitude of the Chicago Cubs into a love song, and make it funny and touching to boot. “Cubs in Five” also features a mention for the joys of crossword puzzles, which gives it another big tick in our book.

Best bit: “And the Phillips corporation will admit that they’ve made an awful mistake/ And Bill Gates will single-handedly spearhead the Heaven 17 revival”

The Smiths — ”Frankly Mr. Shankly”

Morrissey dismantles a shitty boss and a shitty job in supremely bitchy fashion. An early hint of what his interviews were going to be like for the next two decades or so.

Best bit: “Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask/ You are a flatulent pain in the arse”

Amy Winehouse — “Fuck Me Pumps”

Speaking of “supremely bitchy,” here’s Amy Winehouse’s immortal evisceration of scenester girls. One of the saddest aspects of Winehouse’s decline into tabloid infamy was the fact that her genuinely witty nature was just another part of her that was overlooked by those seeking to construct her as nothing more than a drug-addled train wreck. This song, along with many others, stands as testament to the fact that she was both whip-smart and funny.

Best bit: “Like the news, everyday you get pressed”

Jarvis Cocker — “Leftovers”

In which Jarvis embraces the joys of the grandpa joke and milks a series of gloriously lame puns for all they’re worth. In another pair of hands, this could have been mildly embarrassing; Cocker, however, plays it perfectly, arching his eyebrow just enough to make the whole thing work a treat.

Best bit: “I met her in the museum of paleontology/ And I make no bones about it”

Ween — ”Buenas Tardes, Amigo”

A seven-minute-long murder mystery that falls somewhere between Spaghetti Westerns and the “I don’t have to show you any stinking badges!” guy from The Treasure of the Sierra Madre? Sure, why not? And funnily enough, for all its absurd charms, this somehow manages to be genuinely involving and even a little moving.

Best bit: “Maybe I’d sell you a chicken/ With poison interlaced in the meat”

L7 — “Shitlist”

This song is clearly all kinds of awesome, and its sheer vitriol — along with the maniacal glee with which Donita Sparks delivers the lyrics — make it as funny as it is confronting. Unless you’re the one on the “shitlist,” of course.

Best bit: “YOU’VE MADE MY! SHITLIST!”

Funkadelic — ”The Electric Spanking of War Babies”

In fairness, this had something of an anti-war message — but come on, for god’s sake, it’s called “The Electric Spanking of War Babies,” and it came with a giant penis-shaped spaceship on its cover. It’s hilarious.

Best bit: “Oh, it’s shocking to find/ That your mind/ And your behind/ Will get a spanking in due time”

Peaches — ”Mommy Complex”

Peaches is very serious about what she does — she once unleashed on your correspondent for asking something about whether people “get the joke” — but that doesn’t mean that her songs don’t have some measure of amusement value. Especially when, y’know, they’re dealing with dudes who like to dress up as babies (and also poking fun at their author’s age in an endearingly self-deprecating way).

Best bit: “Mommy wants to ride the top/ Nipple to the bottle/ You satisfied?”

The Monkees — ”Cuddly Toy”

A sort of Anglophone equivalent to Serge Gainsbourg’s immortally subversive “Les Sucettes,” this song found Harry Nilsson (he of “Everybody’s Talking” fame) furnishing The Monkees with a hit that was ostensibly about cuddly toys, but actually about group sex. Oops. Its depiction of ye olde gang bang was not particularly pleasant, either, but it’s definitely worthy of a sly giggle or two.

Best bit: “You’re not the only cuddly toy/ That was ever enjoyed by any boy”

TISM — ”The Mystery of the Artist Explained”

Much-lamented Australian band TISM (an acronym for “This Is Serious, Mum”) boasted a discography whose song titles included “Martin Scorsese Is Really Quite a Jovial Fellow” and “I Might Be a Cunt, But I’m Not a Fucking Cunt.” This song is taken from an album called Great Truckin’ Songs of the Renaissance.

Best bit: The official list of people who TISM think are fucked in the head. There’s some assumed knowledge of ’80s Australian cultural figures there, but hey, you get the idea.

Beck — ”Satan Gave Me a Taco”

Frankly, this song is enough to put you off Mexican food for quite some time.

Best bit: “There was aphids on the lettuce/ And I ate every one/ And after I was done/ The salsa melted off my tongue”

Magnetic Fields — “How Fucking Romantic”

Unsurprisingly, given its author (and its title), this falls firmly into the “bitterly funny” camp.

Best bit: “How fucking romantic/ Must we really waltz?/ Drag another cliché/ Howling from the vaults…”

Jeffrey Lewis — “The Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror”

Lewis is another artist who’d happily warrant multiple entries here — his Yiddish reinterpretation of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” is the stuff of genuine comedic genius — but if we’re only choosing one track, it’s hard to go past this tale of having an existential crisis about art and getting sexually assaulted by a Will Oldham lookalike on the L train. It’s funnier than it sounds.

Best bit: “Our mothers like our music but our friends come to our shows/ And if our friends become successful, we’ll consider them our foes”

Chuck Berry — “My Ding-A-Ling”

Yes, yes, we know — this song is basically the Farrelly Brothers of rock ‘n’ roll. Still, Berry’s audaciousness in releasing this in the first place, let alone the fact that he got away with it, merits a schoolboy giggle.

Best bit: “Those of you who will not sing/ You must be playin’ with your own ding-a-ling!”

Photo courtesy of Water Tower Music/Interscope.

Gatsby. The Great Gatsby, written by F. Scott Fitzgerald is one of those books that most people can’t escape high school without reading. Furthermore, Jay Gatsby is a character that many people can’t help but love, if only from a literature standpoint. Baz Luhrmann’s adaptation of the novel about love and opulence in 1920’s New York hit theaters this weekend and has gotten mixed reviews. Though I loved it–the dialogue was taken directly from the book, the lighting and set design were beautiful, the clothes were amazing, the casting was almost entirely perfect (Leo was flawless)–some people weren’t happy with Luhrmann’s interpretation of Fitzgerald’s classic. Everyone is, of course, entitled to their own opinion, and I suppose I could see how The Great Gatsby might not be someone’s cup of tea. But there is one aspect to the movie that I don’t think should be argued and that is the soundtrack.

It’s become expected that a movie by Baz Luhrmann will include a unique soundtrack comprised of modern music with a classic twist. Music From Baz Luhrmann’s Film: The Great Gatsby is no exception. With Jay-Z as an executive producer on the movie and soundtrack, it’s not surprising that the soundtrack is great. He worked with Luhrmann for two years on this soundtrack, and their efforts certainly made for a memorable album. Many different artists are featured on the album, including Jay-Z himself, and most of the songs have a 20s-era jazz feel to them. While songs like “100$ Bill” incorporate sound bites from the characters in the movie, the deluxe soundtrack includes full tracks of dialogue such as Nick Carraway’s ending monologue: “Gatsby Believed in the Green Light.” Before The Great Gatsby hit theaters, the soundtrack was available to stream online through Spotify or NPR, but many songs have been taken down since the movie’s premiere. Still, the soundtrack is fantastic and I decided to pay it some tribute by listing my favorite songs. It was hard enough to narrow the list down to seven and it was impossible to pick a favorite so these songs are in order of the soundtrack.

Photo credit to C.Smith: WENN.

“100$ Bill”

The first song on the soundtrack opens with Leonardo DiCaprio as Jay Gatsby saying, “My life has got to be like this, it’s got to keep going up.” Then the beat kicks in and mixes with other sound bites from the movie until Jay-Z comes in and starts rapping. The song would be great without all the bits of dialogue from the movie, but those traces of the movie woven throughout Jay-Z’s lyrics from the point of view of a modern day Gatsby takes the song to an entirely new level. The horns in this song are an element taken straight out of the 1920s, but mixed with the chopped and screwed beat of modern rap, “100$ Bill” acts as a bridge between the movie set in the 20s and music created in the 2010s. It’s the perfect song to start off the soundtrack.

“Back to Black”

Amy Winehouse always had a jazzy retro feel to her music, so it makes perfect sense that one of her songs would be featured on The Great Gatsby soundtrack. The version that appears on the soundtrack is performed by Beyoncé and Andre 3000 and it’s slower than Winehouse’s original version. The song is dark and haunting with its use of guitar, synth and electro bleeps. Although Beyoncé isn’t Amy Winehouse, her voice on this song is beautiful and eerie in the best way possible. The juxtaposition between “Back to Black” and “100$ Bill”–the first two songs on the soundtrack– mirror the disparity between the wealth and darkness that surround Gatsby in the novel and the film.

Photo courtesy of Pitchfork.

“Young and Beautiful” 

I’ve never actually listened to Lana Del Rey before; all that I know of her is that she gave a horrible, meme-worthy performance on SNL last year. But “Young and Beautiful,” written by Del Rey and Rick Nowels from the perspective of Daisy Buchanan, fits perfectly into the soundtrack. This ballad, accompanied by some romantic strings and percussion, is another haunting song from the soundtrack, but for another reason. This song captures the nostalgia of wanting to stay young forever and fearing for what the future will bring. 

Will you still love me/When I’m no longer young and beautiful?/Will you still love me/When I got nothing but my aching soul?/I know you will, I know you will/I know that you will/Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?

Although I’m not particularly fond of Daisy, Lana Del Rey’s interpretation of her character on the soundtrack is so compelling that I can’t help but feel sad. “Young and Beautiful” adds a complexity to the soundtrack that fits perfectly in with the movie. 

“Love is Blindness”

Jack White performs his own version of Bono’s original song that appeared on U2’s Achtung Baby album. This song was a perfect choice for a movie with as tragic of a love story as The Great Gatsby. White’s version of the song is certainly different than Bono’s, although they share similar sounds with the guitar and percussion, as well as hints of an organ. While the original song is more haunting and sad than anything else, White’s version starts off in the same way and makes a transition during the song to something like rage. The music starts to bang and crash and White sounds tortured as he cries, “Love is blindness/I’m so sick of it/I don’t want to see.” The transition from darkly brooding to almost-bitter anger within the span of this track seems to capture the tone of the movie very well. “Love is Blindness” also fits in with the haunted theme that seems to pervades the slower songs on the soundtrack, which works especially well alongside the film.

Photo courtesy of Yahoo.

“Crazy in Love”

Emeli Sandé and The Brian Ferry Orchestra recorded their own version of the 2003 hit, written by Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Rich Harrison, and Eugene Record, for The Great Gatsby soundtrack. Sandé’s cover of “Crazy in Love” is a jazz version of the pop song that fits perfectly into the Gatsby film. The music on the track, performed by The Brian Ferry Orchestra, uses a predominance of horns and percussion. Along with Sandé’s vocals, the song sounds like a mix of soul and swing music. This track fits so well into the 1920s theme of the album that it’s not hard to imagine the characters in Gatsby doing the Foxtrot to “Crazy in Love.”

“A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got)”

Fergie, Q-Tip, and GoonRock’s song off the soundtrack is one of my favorites because it’s a perfect mashup of swing, hip hop, and dubstep; it is exactly the kind of song I’d want to dance to at a modern day Gatsby party (which I’m sure there will be plenty of this summer.) The song was written for the album with reference to the Gatsby parties F. Scott Fitzgerald described in his novel. Out of all the upbeat party songs on the soundtrack “A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got)” is by far the most high energy and best represents the over the top aspect of a Gatsby party. Plus, the song even works out of the context of The Great Gatsby soundtrack, which makes it even better.

Graphic courtesy of Kushandwizdom on Tumblr.

“No Church in the Wild”

Originally appearing on Jay-Z’s 2011 album Watch the Throne, “No Church in the Wild” is one of the few songs–if not the only song–on the soundtrack that doesn’t try to incorporate aspects of the 20s or the Gatsby film. The track is performed by Jay-Z along with Kanye West, Frank Ocean, and The-Dream; it was featured in the first two trailers for The Great Gatsby, but can only be found on the deluxe edition of the soundtrack. For me, this is the song I most associated with the film even though it’s entirely modern. “No Church in the Wild” is among other contemporary rap and hip hop tracks used in the movie that were not included on the soundtrack, however it is the most featured of those songs because of its use in the trailers. Out of all the music today, rap and hip hop makes the most sense to include in a movie about huge mansions, lavish celebrations, and endless partying, which made it a perfect addition to the soundtrack.

I know I left out a lot of great songs off the soundtrack from my list (Florence + The Machine’s “Over the Love,” Sia’s “Kill and Run,” and Will.i.am’s “Bang Bang” just to name a few,) so what were your favorite songs from The Great Gatsby?

3/4 of the dreams you share with me

Will you?

Since my breakup with Shelby, my social life had been a bit slow.  Okay, not exactly slow, dormant.  I was at the point where I got excited just slipping into my skinny jeans.

 Now ordinarily it’s not the best strategy to cruise a pick-up hangout by standing next to the coolest looking dude in the place.  At best you’d figure to get lost in his shade.  But the new me had a plan. I staked out a spot next to a guy who was so Rico Suave he made Jason Statham look like a sissy.  But I thought, if I could just nab one of his cast-offs…

Even Stevie Wonder could see this freakazoid of superior looks was a babe magnet for high 9’s and perfect 10’s.  Me, I’d settle for an okay 4…or even a 2 with a strong pulse and all her own teeth.

 Across the room, a vision approached me and the hunkanator.  Then reality hit. Soon Mr. Amazing would score with this chick and I’d be left alone, performing dental checks on all those 2’s.

Miss Thang sauntered right up to us.  She stared into Mr. Everything’s studly dark eyes and said, “Excuse me.  I’m…”

The dude finished her sentence, “…Hurricane Lacy.  I know, because you’re blowing me away.”

Okay, so he wasn’t the wittiest guy in the world, but hell, he didn’t have to be. 

“Kyle?” she asked, looking past the gonad gangsta and straight at me.

“Yeah, I’m Kyle,” I answered, quite stunned. “Do we know each other?”

“No, but we can change that.”

I figured someone must have slipped some “X” into my drink because this couldn’t really be happening.  Then it occurred to me.  This had to be a reoccurrence of my Psychotic Schizophrenic Disorder. 

So I addressed it head-on. “Are you dead?”

She chuckled.  “Of course not.  If I was, could I do this?”  She reached for my jewels, massaged them ever so gently, which gave me quite a thrill.

“I’m Delight.”

“Delight?”

Seems she was used to that reaction.  “My father was a Boston longshoreman and when I was born, he told the other dockworkers, “I was the de light at de end of de tunnel. It was either gonna be Delight, De-end or Detunnel.”

I reassured her, “He picked da right one.”

She smiled seductively at me.  Either this girl was crazy or I was – and I didn’t really care which.  The focus of my thoughts was getting her home and jumping her bones.

Delight pointed to an attractive girl across the room who I vaguely recognized.  “Liz is my roommate.  She told me you tried to pick her up once and said that you see dead celebrities.”

Shit.  I had tried that once and thought it might work as a pick-up.  Desperate men do desperate things, including telling the truth. 

What I found curious was that Liz shared this tidbit with Delight, and Delight didn’t seem to care.  If anything, it was a turn on – or was that just my beer-buzz thinking?

“Is there anyone famous with you now,” Delight gushed in genuine excitement.  I looked around, knowing no apparitions were there, but I tried to play it a bit.

“No, not right now.  But maybe back at my place.  That’s where they usually hang out.” 

“Then why are we here?”

She bought it!  And before long, the two of us were stripping each other naked, at the foot of my bed.  The distance between us was exactly 6 3/4 inches, I know because – well, I just know.  I stared into her gorgeous blue eyes, then gazed down at her amazing rack, then back to her baby blues, then back to her jaw-dropping breasts.  Hey, I’m a guy.  I can’t help myself.

As I was caressing her perfectly shaped shoulder intending to work my way down, she lifted my chin so I’d be looking her eye to eye.  “Do me a favor.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Bring on Heath. I want Heath Ledger to screw me with you.”

Whoa.  What?

“If he’s not around, how about Kurt Cobain?  Or Johnny Depp.”

I was stunned, and could only stammer, “Depp isn’t dead.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” she acknowledged.  “Well, what other dead guys do you know?”

I shared with her that I couldn’t control who showed up or when.

“But they will come, right?”

“I’m sure someone will,” was all I could utter with any assurance.  That someone was going to be me and probably soon.

She ripped the top off my condom packet with her teeth, spitting the strip to the floor.  This chick was wild.  As she started to slide the protection onto its intended home, I was going crazy mad.  Then I observed her attention waning.  If there was ever need for quick thinking, this was it.

“Slap her ass, Heath,” I shouted.  ”She likes that. Tongue her ear!  You love that, baby, don’t you?!”

She suddenly turned on like a ten thousand volt charge zapped through her body.

“C’mon Heath,” she moaned.  “Do it, Baby. C’mon.  I’m wet.”

Freaky.  I hadn’t even touched her and she was writhing in ecstasy.  Delight either had PSD like me, or was just good ol’ fashioned, bat shit crazy.  But there was something missing.

“Hey, what about me?” I inquired.

“Join us.  I want you both.  C’mon.  C’mon!!!”

I joined in, lying on top of her. Soon she rolled me over and rode me like Seabiscuit.  And she was one helluva jockey.  Her amazing skills had me at the threshold of that nirvana moment.  Just as I released, she did as well, crying out, “Yes! Yes! Give it to me!  Give it to me, Heath!”

I could only hope Delight’s first “give it to me!” was directed to ME.

Mutual climax.  Evidently for all three of us.

As she rolled off, Delight excused herself and headed to the bathroom.  She looked back toward me, “Don’t go anywhere.  That was amazing.  When I get back, get someone else to join us.”

Us?  Hopefully she meant me and her being joined by someone else – not her and Heath and some unnamed third.

Delight had just closed the door behind her when I heard, “You owe me, dude.  Big-time.”

I looked across the room and there was Heath Ledger.  Damn he looked good.  “Why’d you tell her I was here when I wasn’t?”

“From the looks of things, you could have been,” I responded as it sunk in he was as naked as I was, with his manhood standing at full attention.  “Man, even your Johnson smiles like the Joker….that isn’t gay, right?”

He slyly smiled.  “You’re real. I’m not – any longer.  You should be able to bed a chick on your own.  You don’t need me as your crutch.  I’m not a wing man.  I’m a leading man.”

I shot back, “An aroused leading man.”

“Now you are starting to sound gay.  Hey, I may be dead, but I’m not… dead, dead!” Heath shrugged as he continued.  “Look, I don’t mind being used, but where’s your self-esteem, man?  Do you have so little confidence in yourself that you have to trick women into sleeping with you?”

“Uh…  yes.”  I waited a beat, then added, “I’m sorry…”  Then the truth gushed out, “No, I’m not.  You’re Heath “Fuckin’” Ledger.  You’ve got great looks, charm, and a big… personality.  All I’ve got is dead people popping in and out of my head.  Why shouldn’t I use it?”

“Do you think we’ll always be with you?”

I hadn’t really thought about it much.  “I just assumed…”

Heath then looked at me as the bathroom door opened.  “At least she’s hot.  Gotta give you that.”

As Delight slid in next to me on the bed, she looked over and commented on the tent my groin had produced with the top sheet.

“Looks like someone’s ready for round two.”

I smiled and defiantly eyed Heath while addressing Delight, “Who do you want to join us this time?”

 Ledger shook his head, then disappeared.

 With each name Delight listed, I could feel the blood draining from its throbbing location.

 “How about James Dean?  Or John Belushi? I loved him in Animal House.  Do you know Jim Morrison?  The Doors were so dope. Or Hendrix…”

It was gone.  Not just Heath, but the urge, the excitement, the desire…my erection.  As Delight’s wish-list continued, she included every name but mine.  I couldn’t take it.  I finally got her dressed and out the door.

Heath suddenly returned.  “Proud of you, Dude.  You showed some balls.”

“So did you,” I chuckled as the door flung open again.  It was Delight.  “What about Amy Winehouse?  I’d be willing to dip into the lady pond for her…”

Heath broke out in laughter, and I did too.

“At least think about it,” Delight opined.

As she left, I promised her I would.  And I did, the next night.  Oh, and you won’t believe where Amy Winehouse has a syringe-pierced, heart-shaped tattoo. Now dat’s Delight!

Avui parlem d’una estrena de cinema americà que podem veure a partir del dia 17 de maig als cinemes. Es tracta d’una pel·lícula basada en una novel·la (com tantes altres) amb la peculiaritat que aquesta fou escrita per Scott Fitzgerald, i fou considerada un dels grans relats del segle XX.

La història ens submergeix en els Estats Units de 1922, recuperats després de la Primera Guerra Mundial, quan l’economia prospera juntament amb el que sovint s’hi associa: el crim, les festes, els excessos, i és clar, les històries d’amor.

Baz Luhrmann ens presenta un segon remake de The Great Gatsby (2013-Austràlia, J. Clayton 1974-USA, E. Nugent 1949-USA) amb el que promet ser una producció a l’alçada de l’esdeveniment. Tinguem en compte que la darrera versió nord-americana comptava amb els grans actors Robert Redford i Mia Farrow (i uns secundaris més que a l’alçada; una pel·lícula realment recomanable la de Clayton), i fer un remake d’un clàssic del cinema té el seu risc… Però després de les seves versions de Moulin Rouge o Romeo+Juliet, no dubtem de la seva capacitat per rellegir i transportar-nos de nou dins un univers d’històries intrigants i grans actuacions. Curiositat també per veure com sonarà un dels èxits d’Amy Winehouse en veu de Beyoncé…

 On?

A tots els cinemes. Consultar les sessions a la cartellera.

 Quan?

A partir de l’estrena el dia 17/05/2013

 Quant?

Des d’uns 6 € el dia de l’espectador (dilluns i/o dimecres) a uns 9 €. Recordeu els Carnets Joves, Carnets Universitaris, Carnet de Biblioteques, Club Racc, promocions lkxa… i consulteu abans amb la web del cinema.

@Nadir

They have made a bronze statue of Amy Winehouse, the sculpture is commissioned by the Camden Council an can be found in the Roundhouse. Other musician who have had this privilege are Bonnie Tyler and Gary Numan. Camden in London are very supportive of good musicians and like me like songs by John Lennon.

Here is the quotes from Rick Dixon an author in Cambridge: If any more proof were required that the British love to celebrate failure and hold up complete wastes of skin as role models, surely this is it.

Camden Council have given their blessing for a bronze statue of Amy Winehouse to be erected at the Roundhouse in Camden where she gave her last performance in July 2011, before drinking herself to death later that month. Most admirable…

Let’s face it Bonnie Tyler, Gary Numan and Shakin’ Stevens all had distinctive voices, and all shifted lots of records – I’ll bet a body part of your choice that nobody will be calling for a memorial for any of them.

We see an ‘artist’ with so little respect for her ‘art’ and paying audience that she can hardly stand on stage, let alone perform. This should be Winehouse’s true legacy – not a statue.

Winehouse was not Lennon, Morrison or Hendrix and while I’d certainly not call any of those good role-models, these people actually physically changed popular music and culture, making a lasting, tangible impact on the world.

Now she’s been raised up on a pedestal by the British press, we’re supposed to ignore this and toe the party line, remembering only how ‘talented’ she was.

Stirring Trouble Internationally  ’…Statue of Amy Winehouse Given Go Ahead…’

To read the full article about the Amy Winehouse sculpture shaped by Camden Council near the Roundhouse musical venue. Please refer to the link above. There you will read more info about Bonnie Tyler, Gary Numan, Camden, London and John Lennon.

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• amy winehouse statue camden (thesun.co.uk)
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My beautiful children never cease to amaze me with their ingenuity, creativity and love. On Saturday afternoon when I was sinking into the haze of illness and had slept for several hours while they had the run of the house I was instructed not to enter the kitchen. They assured me that everything was fine (!!). Then the two girls said that they needed to go to the shop to get some ‘stuff’ for mothers day. Although it was close to dusk they insisted that they could ride their bikes and be back quickly, so I gave them some money and sent them off. They returned much later (after I went out looking for them) with 1 kilo of bacon. They explained that they had some difficulty getting served at the deli counter and that the bacon was on sale and seemed like a good price so they ordered a kilo! I wish I had been a fly on the wall as they worked it out between themselves!

On Sunday morning they were all so excited about giving their gifts (bought on a shopping trip with a beautiful friend, and then topped up at the mother’s day stall at school) and preparing my breakfast, that there was no chance of a sleep in. The effort that they put in was astounding. The menu alone made my day!

I enquired about the ‘Bacon and egg magic makers’ and was told that they were bacon and egg cupcakes that the middle child had spotted on Pinterest (!!). They threw in a side order of “everything tastes better with bacon”. The food was delicious and they only suffered one bacon fat burn between them!

I then had a container of chocolate chip cookies presented to me with a card in honour of being “ the first and probably only guest at our cafe”! This was the cause of my banishment from the kitchen.  They then presented me with the bill – and my payment was calculated in hugs and kisses – the best sort of payment!

Although I kept sleeping on and off throughout the day, and was grumpy and tired, they really went all out to keep making sure that it was a special day. I am so blessed to have such amazing children!

In crafting news I have been busy, although I didn’t photograph all of my efforts! I had a birthday to attend for a friend’s 40th. She loves accessories so the obvious choice of gifts was a bag. I wanted to try a different pattern, and given that this wasn’t being made for sale, thought I would try out an online tutorial, so went for the Tohoku tote. Although my late night sewing meant that I put the bow on upside down, I was still very happy with the result, and decided not to unpick the whole thing on this occasion (mainly because I was out of time!)

The theme of the party was “Gone before their time. Famous and died before they were 40”. This is a family who really do love a fancy dress party and always go to a lot of effort, so the pressure was on. I initially thought of Patsy Cline and had images of fringing etc, but as always, time was ticking on and I hadn’t made it to the shops. So I went with the slightly obvious (there were 5 of us with the same idea) of Amy Winehouse. I found a wig online for a very reasonable price, and after some funny communication with the security guard at my office, it was finally delivered. A bit of teasing and stuffing with bath scrubs and I had the height of the beehive right. The artist in residence drew the tattoos on for me (after assuring me that she was only using washable markers) and face paint did the eyes. The end result? Voila!  (Very different from my normal look I can assure you!)

Luckily I didn’t channel too much of her character and was in very good shape, with all make up and tattoos removed, by the time I was picking up the kids from their sleep-overs the next morning! It was a great party – something about fancy dress always makes for a fun night.

Other creative endeavours have included a large pile of pencil rolls, and toothbrush rolls and a superhero cape to fill some orders.

I have a few other orders ready to start on, as soon as I am up and about a bit more. Plus, all this time in bed has given me lots of time to think and plan and come up with more ideas! Dangerous territory for a woman who is already time poor!

There is a suggestion in my office of having a craft sale in November as a fundraiser for the social committee (which often also gives part of the proceeds to charity) and I have been thinking about the work involved in building up enough stock to set up a stall. As a result there are lots of ideas percolating around in my brain.

In other news the winter sports season has started well. The boy had his first rugby union match last week and scored two tries, so he was thrilled. The girls are both in the under 11 hockey team and won their first game 3:1, with the eldest chick as goalie, and then this week they tied 3 all. They have a lovely team, with very supportive team members and a great coach so I think it will be a good season.

For now, I am back to bed. I hope that this finds you all well and warm, wherever you are!

III: The Trap
The next day I was able to convince Leslie that I was completely off my face and didn’t even remember kissing Casanova. The episode was brushed aside and we remained on good terms. It was just the beginning for Casanova however. For the whole of the following week, he was on my case 24/7. I never told Leslie I was in contact with him.
Some guy Leslie and I both knew was having a party the following week and Casanova happened to be invited. I thought nothing of it considering the fact that only about 30% of people who click attending for events, actually show up in the end.
The night of the party – probably about 7pm – I was in my room getting ready. Leslie knocked on my door and told me that Casanova was planning to go but didn’t know how to get there so he was coming with us. He was meeting us in our home. Casanova was coming to my home.
I knew what he was doing. I knew.
I had half a bottle of white wine in my room which I downed for Dutch courage. About an hour late he came and we all bundled into Leslie’s tiny room and listened to music. It all seemed harmless enough.
I asked him, “Has Leslie given you a tour of the house.”
He chuckled awkwardly, “umm no, I came straight up here”.
“Okay, good”.
He laughed.
“Have you seen my room?” I prompted.
“Just a little bit when I came to say hi.”
“Come see it, it’s awesome”. I feigned innocent enthusiasm. Leslie bought it and stayed put while I dragged Casanova to my room.
I had only got about five seconds into the grand tour before he pushed me up against my wardrobe and pinned me there, kissing me roughly – impatiently. I’d never been so excited. I don’t know how long he spent pressed up against me before we came up for air but eventually we composed ourselves and went back into Leslie’s room. We both knew that if she found out, she would flambe both of our genitals and serve em to the neighbourhood cats. Everytime she left the room to go pee or something, we would pounce on each other and fool around on her bed. The thrill of hearing her come up the stairs and rushing to adjust clothing and swat each other’s roaming hands, was indescribable.

In the end we got lazy and didn’t go to the party. We ended up watching Inglorious Basterds (a movie Casanova helped me pick from my personal collection while Leslie waited downstairs. The moment we got upstairs he pushed me on the bed and finger-fucked me with the door wide open. To this day I don’t understand how Leslie didn’t hear my moans).
We sat on the couch in the dark – Casanova in the middle. Throughout the movie he would stroke my thighs and hold my hand. Leslie later admitted that she did see this. When the movie ended, Casanova somehow managed to convince Leslie to let him stay the night – in my room. I don’t know how he worded it so that she would agree but he did.
We all went upstairs – Leslie to her room, and Casanova and I right next door to my room.

IV: The Main Event

He was strangely tentative to begin with. He sat on my bed in the dark, almost as if he was expecting me to back out. I went over and straddled him and we began to kiss. My jumper came off, followed by my shirt and then my bra which he unhooked. He kissed my breasts with a nonchalance that told me he’d ‘experienced’ pierced nipples before. Most guys freak out for about five whole minutes before they continue.
He picked me up and flipped me onto the bed, then stood up to take his shirt and jeans off. I wriggled out of my skirt and tights, leaving my knickers on so that he could take them off. Let me remind you that I was a virgin at this point. Sometimes when I look back at how casually I handled this experience, I can’t help but feel a little proud. May I also remind you that he was not aware of my virginity – or if he was, he didn’t mention it. To this day I still haven’t told him that he was my first.

Anyway, he took my knickers off and began to plant soft kisses down my torso. When he reached my navel, I knew where he was going and a wave of excitement rippled over me. I had never been eaten before either. He teased me for a bit, nibbling my thighs and kissing the tops of my legs. Then he went in for the kill. The power of the position I was in, overthrew the sensations. It felt nice, yes, but as I lay back I couldn’t help but smile triumphantly. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends that this had finally been done to me! He fingered me at the same time, and I cried out both with pleasure and pain, but mostly from pain. Whenever he stabbed his long fingers into me, they ripped into me, searing and rude and intrusive. I wanted him to stop but at the same time, once they were already up there, they felt sensational. With each poke he summoned my G spot and it rose to his call like a snake to its charmer. I told him to stop and he got up, perplexed by the fit of giggles that had just come over me. Somehow I ended up laying on my front with him towering above me. He opened his hand flat and rubbed my bottom with his palm. I knew what was coming next. Without warning he spanked me hard enough for my rear to smart. I cried out in pain. He continued to bring his palm crashing down, thwack! on my bottom, feeding off my cries. After the third spank, I began to enjoy it, and my cries became moans.
He stopped, bent down and began scrambling on the floor for his trousers. I thought he was getting a condom but imagine my shock – and fear – when he materialized menacingly above me with his belt in his hand. He raised it and like his palm previously, whacked it down on my bottom. Again, there was no warning, no safe word, no way out. I enjoyed it.

Finally he stopped and we lay in bed, me on top of him and him fingering me again. I felt the sensation of needing to pee and made him stop.
We fell asleep.

I woke up a couple of times in the night to him squeezing my hand rhythmically like a pulse. I turned, thinking he was waking me up, but he was still fast asleep. Strange.
Then around 5am he was squeezing me again, but this time consciously. He rolled me onto my back and began to kiss me and then stopped to bend over and go through his trousers again – this time for a condom.
He rolled it on and before entering me I placed my hand on his chest to halt him.
“Gently.” I implored quietly.
He nodded dazedly. Then he pushed through.
It took a while before ‘I’ would let ‘him’ in, and each time was as excruciating as the first. He thrust into me hard and urgently, and I cried again and again in pain. All the while he shuddered on top of me, now and then breathlessly assuring me “you feel so good”.
He flipped me on my side and we did it that way, and then I found myself on top of him. I painfully eased myself onto him and began to move my hips the way I’ve seen in the pornos. I got into it, pleasure beginning to seep into every movement. Soon I was rocking my hips back and forth fluidly, rubbing my breasts for his viewing pleasure. He came and within seconds we were both out for the count.

About two hours later, I awoke and went to the bathroom to freshen up. My ‘area’ was incredibly sore and tiny spatters of blood decorated my tissue after wiping myself. I looked in the mirror at my dishevelled hair and fastened my dressing gown tightly around me. A breathlessness came over me and an anxiety attack followed. It took about five minutes before I managed to composed myself and made my way back into my room.
Casanova was still completely knocked out. I carefully slid into bed and was asleep again within seconds.

I woke up again to Casanova shaking me to tell me there was someone knocking at my bedroom door. I ignored it. He wanted to do it again and at first I said no; the pain was unbearable. Eventually I let him, after stopping to give him a blowjob – my very first one.
The second time hurt as much as the first and I moaned loudly. If my housemates didn’t hear me the first time, they sure as hell heard that one.
Afterwards he fell asleep again (he really should see someone about his narcoleptic tendencies, I mean seriously!?) and I went and freshened up.

When the time came for him to leave, he got up and picked up the used condoms he’d thrown on the floor. One of them was stained with my blood, and he looked at it in confusion for a minute before shrugging and tossing it into my waste-bin. While getting dressed he examined my room at the same time, stopping to look at my posters and general ornaments laying around. My Bible caught his attention and he turned and smirked at me.
“You believe in God?”
I answered cautiously. “yes…?”
He chuckled. I didn’t know whether this was in approval or mockery. I later discovered that he is an atheist so in hindsight I guess he was scoffing mockingly. We sat and cuddled on the couch for a while before he left, and then I escorted him to the door.
I began to shut it, but he stopped me and reached out for a hug. I hugged him and we kissed for a while, and he squeezed my breast affectionately before turning and leaving. By this time Leslie knew what we had done and after crying a little, she made me go into graphic detail over everything that happened.

She said she was fine with it. I knew she wasn’t. Over time I grew to understand just how ‘unfine’ she was about it.

tbc.

Fresh claims made about Amy Winehouse’s troubles in new book (Picture: File)

Amy Winehouse first tried to kill herself aged just ten, a new book has claimed.

The Back to Black singer is said to have been found foaming at the mouth after taking an overdose of pills a year after her father Mitch left her mother Janis, an insider revealed in Amy Winehouse: The Untold Story.

It is said that the singer was so distraught about the breakdown of her parents’ marriage that she began smoking marijuana and self-harmed.

‘Amy went through a lot of pain at her parents’ separation,’ a friend of the late star is reported as saying.

‘She might have put on a front like she didn’t care but to her, seeing her father leave her for another woman was the ultimate abandonment.’

‘By ten she’d had her first spliff and, in some people’s eyes, was already on a road to ruin.’

Amy died in July 2011, aged 27.

Nothing’s really been going on for the past week since it’s exam season so here’s a lovely little account of how I met Casanova (it would probably be useful in understanding everything that’s going on with him now). The entire story is so long, I will have to write it in two parts but either way it has to be written down. The Casanova period of my life is one I want documented while the memory is still fresh.

I: First Impressions

In first year I did a course called Romanticism and my very first day I sat and saw nobody of interest. All the girls were stuck up and all the guys were either overweight or complete nerds. Most of the time, both. They all pretty much disregarded me completely, as most of my classmates do. There was this one guy though who wouldn’t keep his eyes off of me. He was this tall skinny guy with a scene-ish haircut and a very ’16 year old whie skater boy’ way of dressing. For the first month I would sit in silence the whole 2 hours of class, and he would sit and stare at me intensely. I did that thing where I pretend I can’t notice but it got rather tiring and very unsettling. After that first month, my attendance was few and far between. I didn’t see him for ages simply because he was as bad at his attendance as I was. Whenever I was in, he wasn’t and vice versa I would presume.

So one day I got talking to my friend Leslie. She was a girl who lived in the same building as me; I’d met her at a pub social and I had taken a liking to her instantly. She was loud, infectious and welcoming. Two months of knowing her made me realize that she was also irritating as fuck. She meant well though, so I kept her around. She told me that she really liked some guy she knew. I asked his name, and it was Casanova’s. His real name is very common; it could have been anyone, and even then he was still not significant enough to think of him when she said his name. She showed me his facebook and I told her the guy was in my class. This excited her and she immediately requested my help in getting him to like her. I said sure, it was worth a try.

A couple weeks later we ended up in class at the same time. He had changed. That scrawny awkward teenage boy had been replaced by a man, with definition in his body and a good dress sense. He’d gotten a haircut and grown facial hair and he no longer gawked at me. All I received was a fleeting glance here and there, but nothing substantial. He officially had my attention.
Turning to drastic measures, Leslie decided to throw a party and invite him, hoping to make a move that night. She ended up getting extremely wasted before any guests even arrived (the grand total reaching about 7) and he brought a girl he was obviously banging with him. Leslie drank even more and made a complete fool of herself. She was falling everywhere, her mini dress rising now and again to reveal her crimes as a ‘below the thigh’ shaver. Eventually she burst out of the room and went and cried in her room for hours while myself and all 4 of her other guests (excluding Casanova and his poor female companion alone in the kitchen, not quite knowing where the ‘party’ had migrated to) tried to console her.
In the end he went home to bang the girl he was banging, and I stood in Leslie’s room trying to be as discreet as possible while giggling into my pink jug of Vodka as her mates dished her awful advice on how to approach the Casanova situation.

Time went by and although she still had it in her head that she would one day be with him, Leslie’s obsession with him dulled. Him and I were on greeting terms at this point but that was all. Whenever I did see him outside of class, he was with a new girl. Black, white, skinny, curvy, short, tall, I saw him with every type. A player. A ladies man. A Casanova.
During the summer I went to some guy’s place to get high and watch Boondocks, and Leslie was there. She showed me Casanova’s blog and I was given an insight into how his twisted little mind works. A writer and a tormented soul. Very typical and a little pretentious. He’s battled depression his whole life and frequently flits between self-perceptions of staggering egotism and crippling self-loathing. His sexual preferences are borderline sadistic. He delights in dominance and scrunches up every ounce of negativity stored up in that 6’2 body of his and releases it on his lovers. He chokes, bruises, spanks, whips and degrades until he is drained of his anger.
I was no longer just interested or curious. I had to have him.

II: The Chase Begins

Fresher’s Week. Friday night. I was at the on-campus club with a few friends. I went to the bar and felt someone tap me. It was Casanova.
I gave him a hug and asked him which classes he was taking this year – just basic stuff you know. He started flirting. Said we should hang out some time. I agreed but went to rejoin my friends. A while later I was dancing with Dylan, my gbf, who kept mentioning that some guy standing nearby was staring at me. I knew who it was so I didn’t bother looking back. I just danced even more sensually. I knew what I was doing. Seconds later he had joined me and before I knew it we were kissing. Dylan pulled me away asap and hustled me out of the club. As I lay in bed that night, slumping into a drunken sleep, I knew it was wrong but I felt more excitement than guilt.

Predictably so, Casanova didn’t let go. He messaged me on facebook and we instantly exchanged numbers. The spark kinda died a little bit for a while. Whenever we wanted to meet up, either he would request unreasonable times and locations at short notice, or I was never free. Then Monday came and it was Leslie’s birthday. We decided to go to the club for it, and it being the first proper night out of term, I got more dolled up than usual. Towards the end of the night, Leslie got tired so I agreed to go home (she lives with me). On our way out we bumped into Casanova so we stopped to talk to him. It got awkward fast. He made it clear that I was the only one he was interested in and my reminding him of her birthday did little to change this. He held onto my waist and asked me if the other night was a mistake. I told him it wasn’t. At this point, Leslie had her back turned to us deliberately and couldn’t hear what was being said. I told him we had to leave and pecked him quickly on the lips while Leslie wasn’t looking. This was a mistake.
As I pulled away, he pulled me right back and proceeded to kiss me properly, and I got caught up and made out with him right back. Of course Leslie turned around and saw everything. I pulled away again and hustled her out of the club. The walk home was awkward and uncomfortable. Once inside, I stumbled into the living room and collapsed on the couch. She went straight upstairs and as my brain cells began to shut down one by one, I swear I could hear her sobbing from her bedroom…

tbc.

Amy Winehouse died from alcohol poisoning in July 2011 (Picture: AP)

A statute of Amy Winehouse has been approved by Camden councillors and is expected to be installed at The Roundhouse in September.

The statue will be made of bronze, designed by Scott Eaton and will be installed on the balcony of the iconic venue, according to the Camden New Journal.

The project was green lit after initially facing objections from the Camden Town Conservaton Authority, who said: ‘We are concerned that this statue of Amy Winehouse should be proposed so soon after her death… It often takes some time to devise an appropriate and lasting memorial as well as to provide a really suitable venue.

‘We are not necessarily impressed by Scott Eaton’s statue and certainly feel that a much better venue could be found. The proposal certainly seems to have far more commercial aims than the simple one of remembering Amy.’

Madame Tussauds unveiled a waxwork of Amy Winehouse in 2008 (Picture: Facebook)

Winehouse was found dead at her home in Camden on July 27, with her death being ruled by coroners as misadventure by accidental alcohol poisoning.

Amy’s father Mitch was supportive of the decision, telling Sky News: ‘Amy was in love with Camden, and it is the place her fans from all over the world associate her with.

‘The family have always been keen to have a memorial for her in the place she loved the most, which will provide fans a place to visit and bring extra custom to local businesses.

‘The Roundhouse seemed an obvious choice of location as Amy had a special relationship with the venue. She played there with Paul Weller when the venue re-opened in October 2006 and her last public performance was on the same stage just days before she passed away in July 2011.’

This is not the first time Winehouse has been immortalised, with Madame Tassauds having unveiled a waxwork of the singer in 2008.

Apocryphalites – Playing @TransmissionGig May 17th, Elberts, Hertford

A huge thanks to Gideon Conn, Joel Sarakula, Los Ladrones De Amor and Dave from Green Onions for making last night great fun. Los Ladrones kicked things off with their Latin Noir take on punk complete with the excellent percussion from Richard. Then Joel asked Richard to jam with him for his set, despite only meeting him an hour ago. Joel Sarakula is what my Grandad used to call a class act. He played most of his brilliant debut album The Golden Age which is out now on ArtParade Records. Loose limbed piano playing and classic pop songs that immediately brought to mind early Elton, Billy Joel and the indiepop sound of Brendan Benson.

Then the main event, Gideon Conn had the audience in his hand and even got a bunch of people sitting on the floor with him like early Marc Bolan. He played a selection of his classics including Introducing, Wildfire, I Want You Around an acapella Electricity (complete with some choice moves) and a tender version of The Man Who Goes Around Selling Fish. As he was in a Friday night party mood he ended with a cover of Ms Jackson by Outkast. A great night all round. Can’t end without thanking Dave from Green Onions for his sterling work on the decks spinning mod and soul classics. Check out Green Onions next time it’s on in Hertford.

This Friday the 17th May we have the Apocryphalites, an amazing Ska band bringing us their unique two-tone covers of Amy Winehouse and Edwyn Collins along with their stonking originals. We saw these guys at Powers Bar in Kilburn and they absolutely tore the place up; a great band to dance the night away to!

Evidence that my work was printed, hung and sold!

If it only were so. There are several versions of the song, but one version is very difficult to find.
Okay, here we go. Several versions. Let’s firstly establish that all albums by Amy Winehouse are present in the album collection of my parents.
It are only 3 albums, okay, but that’s because she really died too early.

One version of Valerie can be found on the Deluxe Edition of the cd Back To Black. This version of Valerie was the first to be recorded.
I have some difficulty to explain how it sounds, so listen to it here. It is special, but not the one you hear on the radio.

And that is the problem. I want to find the version of Valerie which you hear on the radio.

On the last album of Amy Winehouse, some sort of version which sounds like the radio version can be heard.
I’m talking about the ’68 version of Valerie, which can be found on Lioness: Hidden Treasures. Listen to it here.

However, it’s not the version you hear on the radio. But where can I find this version?

Who can help me? And one thing: I don’t want a download, I want it on an oldfashioned cd.