After receiving spam that “misses” me, I have found out today that a certain Marcelle Ndo needs my assistant. … !?
Honey, it’s been a couple of months since I don’t have an assistant.
Am I just being mean here? Because, you see, Ms.(?) Ndo comes from Benin Republic…
Should you be on the Budapest M, nobody throw a fit should you hear a pack of men asking for your tits kits. It’s not about breasts, nor are you supposed to have a do it yourself implant. It’s just a checking your tickets. As witnessed by my friend.
Yes, we’ll make it a Tori post. I have just read Robert’s
interview. Before I returned, actually immediately after the concert I had called Robert to let him know. It would’ve been the perfect concert had she played
The Wrong Band. In fact I was not even sure this was the name of the song and I did not know the name of the album. It is Under the pink. I only knew it was one obscure tune out of 350, that stuck with me for whatever reason.
At the concert with the highest number of redheads per square meter, Tori surprised me by entering the stage blond and hair cut short. Or at least that’s what I thought as I did not know the first thing about her new album.
From the very beginning I have noticed the boys and girls around me were moving catatonic like. Did this have anything to do with the lack of affection, is that part of the theme?
“Tori is living on stage. Maybe not only there, but for us that is essential. Tori is feeling, Tori cannot stay put. It’s just me who’s stayed put, absorbing sounds, filling up, waiting to take them home.” That was obvious to me when she was on stage. I was writing as she was making love to her piano. Now go read that interview. The paragraph about Tori and roles on stage and in life, about being on stage and getting off the stage.
“ Look! I’m standing naked before you. Don’t you want more than my sex?” has made my hair stand on end. So I knew it was good concert, it’s been certified, it’s been validated.
My final memory is the Mr. Jones episode, with the dress, and the wife, and the improvising at the piano. Or not? What would you feel if you worked with somebody and she told you things singing, in front of an audience?
Generally, people’s unreliability is more reliable then their reliability, so count on the former rather then on the later.
Reflection is pretty much like physical exercise. It can hurt. But it is the nature of the exercise that leads either to a positive or negative outcome, among other things. As I am exercising myself, it took me more than five minutes to write down the last three words of the previous sentence.
I am drinking coffee with soy milk. Ironic, come to think about it. I remember how my parents dreaded the soy “coffee” of the 80’s.
I am reading “A Long Way Down” by Nick Hornby, in a very Wizzair cover. That was ironic too, as I sort of started the book waiting and flying that airline. I have also found some very nice paragraphs. Should any of you find the original text, let me know, I am interested.
OK, time to go, I am late again in my corporate world.
Stay tuned for tomorrow’s brilliant update.
Time. Always gone. Can you tell the brown circles around my eyes?
The plan was no plan. Then how come it feels so wrong? Something is missing. Is it the plan? End of my imaginary world, enter cue my real life. I’ll let you know how Tori will have performed in Budapest.
I am so timely and predictable at being late.
In other news, the moths have invaded the cupboard in the office kitchen. Every time I grab a glass a flock of them ghastly creatures flies to the four corners of my small corporate world. No pictures to join this account, as I dread the creatures and I am not going to grant even more word of mouth.
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