...to a life on charm

Photo by Pe@rl manipulated by Me

Sliding...

The family tree was chain-sawed Wednesday week.
So now I have to mingle with the meek.
Hey mister! you have finally met your match
Now everybody wants to kiss my snatch
—To go where God knows who has gone before.
I am a muse, not a mistress, not a whore.
Oh — suburban shits who want some class
All queue up to kiss my ass
And I was only trying to please
I never got any royalties oh no — not me
I'm still sliding through life on charm
Sliding through life on charm.
If Marianne was born a man she'd show you all
A way to piss your life against the wall.
Go ahead why don't you leave me to these thugs ?
And creeps who want to fuck a nun on drugs.
Is it such a sin I never, ever tried too hard ?
I had to know how far was going too far
—In proper homes throughout the land
Fathers try to understand
Why Eunice who is seventeen — aspires to live her life like me
Oh no — Can't ya see, Daddy ?She's just captivated by my charm
Sliding through life on charm.Sliding ...Sliding ...Never!
I wonder why the schools don't teach anything useful these days
Like how to fall from grace, and slide with elegance from a pedestal
I never asked to be on in the first place.

Sliding on charm

"Marianne Faithfull"

Bottom is the flavour of the day

So there was this woman and she was on an airplane, and she was flying to meet her fiancé seaming high above the largest ocean on planet earth. She was seated next to this man she had tried to start conversations, but the only thing she had really heard him say was to order his Bloody Mary. She was sitting there and she was reading this really arduous magazine article about a third world country that she couldn’t even pronounce the name of. And she was feeling very bored and despondent. And then suddenly there was this huge mechanical failure and one of the engines gave out, and they started just falling thirty-thousand feet, and the pilots on the microphone and he’s saying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh my god” and apologizing. And she looks at the man and says “Where are we going?” and he looks at her and he says “We’re going to a party. It’s a birthday party. It’s your birthday party. Happy birthday darling. We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much.” And then he starts humming this little tune, it kind of goes like this: 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4

We must talk in every telephone
Get eaten off the web
We must rip out all the epilogues in the books that we have read
And in the face of every criminal
Strapped firmly to a chair
We must stare, we must stare, we must stare

We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell
Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell
And in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn’t dream
We must sing, we must sing, we must sing

It’ll go like this:
While my mother waters plants
My father loads his guns
He says death will give us back to god
Just like this setting sun is returned to this lonesome ocean
And then they splashed into the deep blue sea
It was a wonderful splash
We must blend into the choir
Sing as static with the whole
We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul
And in this endless race for property and privilege to be one
We must run, we must run, we must run

We must hang up in the belfry
Where the bats and moonlight laugh
We must stare into a crystal ball and only see the past
And in the caverns of tomorrow
With just our flashlights and our love
We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge

And then we’ll get down there, way down to the very bottom of everything
And then we’ll see it, oh we’ll see it, we’ll see it, we’ll see it

Oh my morning's coming back
The whole world’s waking up
All the city buses swimming past
I’m happy just becauseI found out I am really no one

"At The Bottom Of Everything" - Bright Eyes

Today's Flavour: Strange

Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

(Billie Holiday)

Hoje o "sabor" é: Top

Yeah, we fell top

and we wont stop till we get bored

just ride a bike if you fell like

I'll be the forke.

(Pinhead Society)

Just a Feeling

Destroços

Photo By Pearl

Manipulated by Someone Else

This Picture...

Mind Pimps

Perfect Sonnet

Lately I've been wishing I had one desire
something that would make me never want another
something that would make it so that nothing matters
all would be clear then

but I guess i'll have to settle for a few brief moments
and watch it all dissolve into a single second
try to write it down into a perfect sonnet
or one foolish line'cause that's all that you'll get so you'll have to accept
you are here then you're gone

but i believe that lovers should be tied together
thrown into the ocean in the worst of weather
left there to drown left there to drown
in their innocence
but as for me i'm coming to the final chapter
i read all of the pages and there's still no answer
only all that was before i know must soon come after
that's the only way it can be
so I stand in the sun
and I breathe with my lungs
trying to spare me the weight of the truth
saying everything you've ever seen was just a mirror
spent your whole life sweating in an endless fever
now you're laying in a bathtub full of freezing water
wishing you were a ghost

but once you knew a girl and you named her lover
danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer
autumn came, she disappeared
you can't remember where she said she was going to
but you know that she is gone 'cause she left you a song
that you don't want to sing
singing I believe that lovers should be chained together
thrown into a fire with their songs and letters
left there to burn
left there to burn
in their arrogance

but as for me i'm coming to my final failure
killed myself with changes trying to make things better
ended up becoming something other than what I had planned to be
now i believe that lovers should be draped in flowers
and layed entwined together on a bed of clover
left there to sleep
left there to dream of their happiness

by Bright eyes

Havia algo que gostaria de partilhar...

Performance única:

http://www.jbnightology.com/navidad/christmas/christmas.php?id=27080555

Imperdivel

Where Is my mind...

Madrugar

(...) Madrugar es muy desagradable. Interrumpir el sueño en un momento antinatural es como arrancar un esparadrapo despacito, descrajando al pasar un montón de pelos inocentes. (...) Un trance penoso (...), molesto, horrible, de ahí que inevitablemente uno se levante de un humor pésimo. (...)

Cinco moscas azules, Carmen Posadas

O Dry Martini perfeito, segundo Luís Buñuel

Solo hay una manera de lograr un Martini seco de verdad y consiste en lo siguiente:
Deven colocarse los elementos del cóctel frente a una ventana en un mediodía soleado. En ese momento, debe exponerse la botella de ginebra a la luz. Ahora cogemos la de Martini y la luz que atraviesa una y otra nos garantiza el Dry Martini más extra seco del mundo.

Mi último suspiro, Las memorias de Luis Buñuel

Afinal ainda há uma praia secreta para lá dos terminais que asfixiam a pequena baía de espelhos. Ainda há um ermo, ainda há flores selvagens que insistem em crescer, alimentadas pela espuma das ondas. Há rochas perenes e o marulhar ininterrupto que embala os corais que sempre existiram. Apesar do progresso, ainda há constância.

Dirty Vodka Martini

3 oz vodka
1 oz dry vermouth
1/2 oz olive brine


Pour all ingredients into a cocktail shaker half filled with cracked ice.
Shake well.
Strain into a chilled cocktail glass, garnish with an olive, and serve.

Bom Ano (Fireworks in my eyes)

já cá estou

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