Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

…eu sei que ainda não é dezembro!

We are not what you think we are
We are golden, we are golden.
We are not what you think we are
We are golden, we are golden

*super apropriado para a semana que eu tive!

Steven and I discovered Rosita’s by chance when we visited in May. We were going in circles after a long day, not particularly optimistic day of apartment hunting. Something about this place caught our attention, and inside we found a cozy space with bright artwork and a pond complete with fountain and fish. The staff is great, and the food – amazing (but don’t just take my word for it). We vowed not only to come back but also to bring anyone who visits us – we’ve already managed to take two of my classmates, and somehow end up there at least once a month on a date. Favorite places like this are part of what turns a city into a home, and I’m glad I have pictures already. Hopefully there will be more taken at Rosita’s (and in Phoenix overall), and not just from next summer when I plan to take my parents on their visit. (They’ll be long past due – this sort of food food is one of the few things NOT available in Taupo, NZ)

Anyway, in a near-future post, I’ll be back to my informal photo categories with my most flexible imaginary category, “pictures of pictures” or POP. At first, I was going to include one Rosita’s picture in that larger post. Then, as I browsed through the last month’s material for that one good picture of Rosita’s, I found one and then another… and another… and another… And realized Rosita’s probably deserves a post of its own in more ways than one. And now, on to the photos…

From Phoenix

From Phoenix

From Phoenix

From Phoenix	From Phoenix	From Phoenix
From Phoenix	From Phoenix	From Phoenix

From Phoenix

From Phoenix

She sat him down over twelve shots of whiskey.

“Each drink,” she said, “is a new subject.” She smiled, and they took the first shot. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked. He shrugged. “How about jobs?” So they talked about what they did all day, how they hated their boss, how they needed raises and all of the normal conversation. It didn’t last long.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s take another.” They clinked the glasses together and took the second shot down, this one smoother than the first. “That warmed me up,” she said, and told him that summer was her favorite season. He told her his was fall, but summer was nice, too. She spoke about past memories of summer camp. He was a boyscout.

They took the third shot. “You know,” he said, “my parents are divorced.” “You know,” she smiled, “after 35 years, mine are not.” They laughed but she felt terrible, like she made a joke about his life. She touched her hand to his wrist and said she had a very lonely, unhappy childhood. He understood why, though he admitted maybe he did not understand how. She thought hard and told him she always felt alone even if she wasn’t. “This,” he said solemnly, “I understand especially.”

He motioned to the fourth shot, and smiled. They raised the drinks at each other and tipped their chins back, letting the smooth whiskey burn down their throats. “What now?” he asked. “Why are we out here tonight?” she asked him. “Is this a date?” “No,” he said. “But it could be if you want it to be.” She frowned and smiled, then frowned again and looked at her empty drink. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she mumbled. “I didn’t really eat dinner.” “It’s okay,” he said, and this time touched her hand with his: “Do you think this is a date?” She turned to him, squinting. “I’d rather not say.” “Not say,” he asked, “why not say?” “Because I’d rather not know. Not yet anyway.” “Fair enough,” he agreed, “but then we may have completed that subject.”

“Okay,” she agreed and took the next shot and waited as he, surprised, took his a moment later. “Would you mind if I played something on the jukebox?” she asked, and stood up. He sat on his bar stool alone and watched as she walked, all hips, to the jukebox across the room. Her ankles seemed to tug at her shoes as she walked, dragging spiky heels across the hardwood planks. She took a few minutes to choose music, and eventually settled on a popular Rolling Stones song. He walked over to her with the last set of glasses, her two hands placed wide-set on the jukebox, her hips swaying softly. “I think that was a subject onto itself.”

They took the last drink down and he brushed hair out of her eyes, his fingers lightly dragging against her cheek like her heels on the floor.

MediaMonkey is a music manager and jukebox for serious music collectors and iPod users. It catalogs your CDs, OGG, WMA, MPC, FLAC, APE, WAV and MP3 audio files. It offers an intelligent tag editor which looks up missing Album Art and track information via Freedb and the web, and an automated file and directory renamer to organize your music library.

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Title: MediaMonkey 3.2.0.1294
Filename: MediaMonkey_3.2.0.1294.exe
File size: 7.44MB (7,803,872 bytes)
Requirements: Windows (All Versions)
Languages: en-US
License: Freeware
Date added: November 22, 2009
Author: Ventis Media
www.mediamonkey.com

Artista: Eric Carmen

País de Origem: Estados Unidos da América

Estilo: Pop, rock

Hits: “All By Myself”, “Hungry Eyes”, “Make Me Lose Control”

Hit da Jukebox: “All By Myself” (1975, #2US – #12UK)

———————————————–

Essa com certeza é uma das músicas mais tristes já escritas na história da música moderna. Junte isso à um piano igualmente melancólico e a voz de Eric Carmen. Surpreendente. Carmen liderava uma banda chamada “Raspberries”, que fazia relativo sucesso com vários hits. A banda se desfez en 1975 e Eric lançou seu álbum de estréia, contendo a canção “All By Myself”.

A beleza desta canção é infindável. Carmen chegou até a incluir no meio de sua obra uma parte do “Concerto de Paino Nº2 em C (Dó) Menor” de Sergei Rachmaninoff, acreditando que a música estivesse em domínio público. Só esqueceram de avisar Eric que uma obra cai em domínio público mais ou menos 70 anos depois da morte do criador. Rachmaninoff morreu em 1943 (ou seja, nem hoje em dia estaria em domínio público).

Essa canção deve ser bem mais conhecia pela emocionada e poderosa interpretação de Celine Dion no seu álbum Falling into You, de 1996, conseguindo #4US e #6UK.

Ambas as versão são magníficas, um tesouro no mundo das power ballads e das músicas tristes e melancólicas…

A canção foi escrita pelo próprio Carmen (o que nos faz pensar que ele realmente sabe o que é solidão – talvez a separação do seu grupo Raspberries tenha inspirado a letra?). A produção ficou por conta de Carmen e Jimmy Ienner.

Bruno

Nu har jag och polarna kryssat och fikat igen. Nästan så vi börjar på att klaga på att krysset blivit för lätt, eller om det är vi som blivit så skickliga! Fast jag borde väl inte säga något, för då kör det väl ihop sig nästa gång. Hur som helst så var det relativt smärtfritt den här veckan. Ok, då jag ska väl erkänna att på L10 där gissar jag. Känner igen låten, men kommer inte på texten. Lösningen vi fick ihop till v 47 blev så här:

V1 Malmkvist, L1 McCartne, L2 Larsson, L3 Källare, L4 Sue, V5 Caroline, L6 Norah, V7 Restaurang, L8 Nancy, V9 Nanne, L10 Not, V11 Hand, L12 År, V13 Yesterday

Apropå välbevarade herrar, Sir Paul (1942) är väl i likhet med Sir Cliff i tidigare inlägg också väldigt välbevarad för sin ålder. Förutom krysslösningen bjuder jag här på Paul McCarney unplugged. Bara att njuta på! Den här låten gillar jag, den fanns på en jukebox på ett ställe jag brukade hänga i min ungdom. Det mesta Beatles gjort är väl förresten rätt bra, eller kanske man bara är nostalgisk?

Adorei e achei apropriadíssimo para uma tarde quente!

Place: Oldies Cafe

Address:

1. 4th floor of Siam Center, Praram 1 Road, Bangkok
   Phone: 0-2252-2717
   Opening: 10:00 – 22:00
2. 2nd floor of Jamjuree Square, Bangkok
   Opening: 10:00 – 22:00

Food type: Thai, Italian, Europe

Price/Person: 100-200 Bahts

Hands up if you like listening to Elvis,looking at Marilyn Monroe’s famous photo, drinking milkshakes and most definitely eating delicious food. Well, Oldies Cafe is just the right place for you to go and have a nice cosy meal.

Oldies Cafe has their own many unique milkshakes, all of them look so yummy that I thought to myself, I will try to taste all the milkshake menus here!!

I had their dessert, Waffle with chocolate ice-cream,… I didn’t like the whip cream, however, the waffle itself was so nice, for people who likes chewy/sticky kind of waffle!

The beautifully decorated table

The famous pork-rib with rice and Gaeng Som Cha-om Goong

Waffle with Chocolate Ice-cream <3

Visit the Oldies Cafe when you feel in need of a 60s feel to your life

So, this was unexpected. 10 Years was previously unheard of to me, the song above having been discovered among a chilled-out compilation. On finding they’re some kind of metal band, I wondered if perhaps I’d mixed up one 10 Years for another; So Long, Good-Bye is a wonderfully mellow song, and nothing much like the rest of their output — which is a shame. I might trawl through their discography and try to find more along the same lines.

That’s about all. Nothing overly special, just a tune I’ve been fixated with for a little while.

Depois de muita enrolação finalmente está disponível na seção “EPISÓDIOS” a versão legendada em inglês do episódio “Certas Escolhas” Avisem seus amigos estrangeiros!!!!

Could you blame cutties for getting lost in pictorial maze behind their ray ban’s, while dancing on a jukebox in the darkroom?

‘Every biro is empty’, work by Dale Frank

O clipe novo da RiRi.

Dramático néan?

Artista: Neil Sedaka (13/03/1939)

País de Origem: Estados Unidos da América

Estilo: Pop

Hits: “Oh! Carol”, “Calendar Girl”, “Breaking Up is Hard to Do”, “Laughter in The Rain”, “Bad Blood”

Hit da Jukebox: “Laughter in The Rain” (1975, #1US)

———————————————–

Sedaka é um compositor muito conhecido no seu país e provavelmente conhecido aqui pelo hit “Oh! Carol” (que sinceramente, nem sabia que era dele!). “Laughter in the Rain” é uma canção bastante otimista, com um toque de piano bem trabalhado, marca registrada de Sedaka. Clima alegre, letra bonita falando sobre amor e a voz suave de Sedaka, um clássico!

A canção foi escrita pelo Sekada e por Phil Cody (?).

Bruno

Lesbian bars probably exist down at the end of some shady little rip in the space-time continuum.  The decor might change, the clientele rarely does.  Well OK that’s a given if you’re only thinking as far as “lesbian” as a descriptor, but within any subculture are still more subcultures.  Think yoghurt flavours.  Or yeast-based irritations.  The flavours hadn’t changed much since Scar’s last visit to the place and nor had the decor.  Same old tired looking bar counter, with some tired old regulars propping it up.  Same kind of hustle going on around the pool tables.  A babydyke feeding chips into the jukebox, making it howl along to her own heartbreak.  Vagina music, Scar’s mates used to call it, back in the day.  Oestrogen soaked heartstrung folkie country pop ballads galore.  It drove Scar demented, but she grinned wryly and thought Helen would feel right at home.  It was probably a good thing there were some dyke stereotypes Scar didn’t fit, anyway.

Scar ordered a Tiger beer, hunched over it and unwittingly, habitually, began to destroy its label.  By the time’s she’s nearing the lees, the lager’s warm and so’s Scar and by the third beer, she’s officially pissed.  By beer number five, she’s in deep conversation with Blue, who evidently wandered in at some stage of the evening.  It’s going the way inebriated conversations tend to go – Scar pontificating, with all the solutions to all of the world’s problems in her hip pocket, Blue nodding and saying, “Hmmm,” from time to time.  From time to time, Scar lurched off to piss like a horse and play, yet again, one of three male vocals she’d managed to find on the jukebox.  Blue probably hauled her sorry arse out of there and back dockside before she got booted out.  It was one of those maudlin nights.

You might be surprised to learn that I have some Hetero friends out there too.  Two of them asked me to send them this story, so with heavy misgivings, I did.  This was the first reaction: “Thanks for sending this – I am only 2 pages into it and it makes me so sad, I have tears in my eyes.  Is that good or bad for a writer, I suppose its good to have strong reactions to writing?”  I reply, “It’s good, it’s good.”  What I want to say is, right now I am too damn emo to write anyway and part of it is, I suppose, this poxy story.

Scar woke up wondering just how many parrots had shat into her mouth and why demons were chipping away at her cranium with tiny axes.  Milliseconds later, the whole experience took its proper shape and form as a fully-fledged hangover – at which point, Scar felt even worse.  She was definitely too old for this kak.  She cleaned off the previous night’s stale aura under a tap outside and hoped like hell somebody had scavenged some decent food recently, she definitely wasn’t up to grazing and browsing the dump herself just then.  And if she had to chew her way through one lukewarm McJunk burger, her liver would probably reach out and throttle her to death.  Right at that moment, Scar would have welcomed the oblivion, but it was a painful route to get it.

That was the blissful moment when the archest of archangels, Helen the hero walked in, bearing seriously potent coffee and the fluffiest muffins from the coffee shop.

Write through the grind, write through the grind.  I can tell you right now I am way more interested in musing on the The and downloading things that “sound like the Jesus and Mary Chain” and checking Facebook and anydamnthing other than writing this puppy.  Did anyone get that this bit’s title is a little rip-off of a the The song?  If you did, I just want to tell you that I probably love you.  And yes I know it’s complete bullshit adding this drivel in on the pretext of being pomo and meta.  Since I am doing it, however, I should also inform you that I am also currently being thrashed mercilessly at Lexulous.  Apparently they accept “unqueen” though – who knew?  It’s probably what people with speech impediments yell at lepers.  Alright, enough digression, where was I?

So … Scar and Helen ate muffins and drank coffee while Helen laughed at Scar’s hangover and they both made incredibly bad muffin and muffing jokes.  You’re sort of obliged to if, you’re a lesbian.  Or a 14 year old boy.  Helen caught Scar up with the news of her risky refugee runs and Scar enlightened helen about the state of grungy street art and dumpster scavenging.  They discussed their feelings, in true touchy-feely feminist fashion and then they may or may not have had hot lesbian sex.

Blue was clanking and bashing around in the next room, with what sounded like a herd of armour plated elephants.  Eventually, our heroic pair stirred their stumps and went to find her.  She had had yet another of those emergency meetings and had still more news and decisions.  Helen’s cover had been blown, as they all knew it would be, sooner or later.  Scar was silently delighted, Helen looked fairly stricken.  Blue looked sympathetic, “I’m afraid it’s gomi duty for you too, till we get this server up and running and then you guys will be manning the decks.”  Scar perked up.  Manning decks.  Decks!  Now that was tech.

Now, you’ve probably been wondering why on earth any “novel” that dares to call itself cyberpunk has reached 15 thousand words with no sign of any decks, any 3D visuals, any jacking in and any ears bleeding.  Well that’s what it’s like being Queer here in Generika City.  It’s like being on dial up in a broadband world.  Scar couldn’t even remember seeing any Queers with those handy headphone-jack shaped ports in their skulls, the kind that rich code kids showed off in public and that real hackers concealed badly with terrible hairstyles.  Even the mere speculation of decks meant that Queer tech was about to catch up.

I like the sound of her head cracking against the hardwood floor. Welcome to Concussion City! Population: You.

Brought to you by BuellBoy

Feels So Good – Chuck Mangione

Off the 1978 album of the same name, the song hit #4 in June 1978. The song was nominated for Song of the Year, but lost out to Billy Joel’s “Just The Way You Are“. Chuck plays a brass instrument that resembles a trumpet, but is actually called a “flugelhorn” which is considered by many to be a part of the sax family of instruments. Chuck’s band was hit with a double loss on 2/12/09 when guitarist Coleman Mellett and saxophonist Gerry Niewood both died in the Continental Airlines Flight 3407 plane crash just outside of Buffalo, NY.