Just beat it

So the tragic news of the sudden (but not entirely unexpected?) death of the King of Pop made me go rummage in my stuff to find a little treasure trove: my 45 record collection. Oh yeah, you know what I'm talking about. Let's have a little walk down memory lane circa 1974-1985, shall we? And please note, this is not even the entire collection, just a sampling of the "best".

Anyone who tries to deny that they didn't love Michael Jackson in 1982 is a liar:



Remember when I talked about Laura Branigan? Yep:



Jesse, I won't cut fresh flowers for you. Ditto on cold wine, clean sheets, cologne, and phone sitting:



This one was always guaranteed to put a smile on your face and a spring in your step, real uplifting. A good one to stack on top of Wildfire on your record player - you know, the happy one about the pony and girl enjoying snowflakes.



Play this one after and you are talking about a dance party:



I won't lie, I only bought this after watching the movie about a million times. Perfect soundtrack for junior high angst:



I will also not lie and tell you this is totally my karaoke song. I believe I also developed a rather intricate performance/dance/hand gesture routine to go along with it. Ain't no shame in that:



Boys in the bars thinking who is this guy? Also, the b-side to this is one of my dad's favorites (My Baby Thinks He's a Train). Classic:



And I quote: "the rain will come down, then U will have 2 choose. if U believe, look 2 the dawn and U shall never lose."



Again truth, this is no secret: I was a major major Prince fan from 1983-1987. Like I even had an old army surplus trench coat. And quite possibly longed for a puffy shirt. And maybe wrote an anonymous overwrought love note to a girl crush written entirely by quoting Prince lyrics. Anyway, like TAFKAP always said, we can funk until the dawn, holla!



And finally, Mr. A.E. Newman was not a worrier:



Duh, play the other side, dummy!

It was almost invisible

I would trade you my empire for ashes.

A little Neko never hurt no one.

dear chicago/nyc/tampa/wherever

Holla <--- which is something I haven't said in a long time, gonna bring that back, yo.

So I've clearly been distracted (with what? I do not know) and as such, have not bothered to blog about it. I can twitpic the hell out of Showing Snarker My Cocktail because she asks so nicely, but topics for blogging are not forthcoming it seems. I haven't seen any poop on the metro since my ill-fated encounter with a 'rotten banana' so that pretty much limits things right there.

So what have I been doing besides drinking? That is a very good question and the answer is this: working, walking the dogs, traveling, being gay. That basically sums up my life these past few months. Sad but true. I was in Florida last week and it was hot and rainy and people were trying to bullshit me (< -- which is what about 68% of my work life is about, people saying one thing and reality being another). I did get to visit my Aunt Ruby (aside: Who does not have an Aunt Ruby is my question) and she made Louisiana style red beans and rice which is about the only cajun food I like. It was tasty and also gassy but that is the price you pay to spend time with your AR. But boy howdy, my aunt and my cousin are so Republican and conservative that the only thing we agreed on was that the sky was a bluish color. Regardless, it was good to see her since she's quite old (in her 80s I think). Also I did broker a little side consulting work while I was there with some of the bullshit/reality ppl. 75 bucks an hour is the going rate, FYI. High priced Robo-hooker = me now.

What else? Well, I will be taking a trip up to New York City for work on Thurs and also to participate in the revival of Miss Vivian Darkbloom's one-woman/two-donkey show being held at the Macelli Supper Club in Brooklyn. I will reprise my role as 'Girl Sitting in Club Smoking a Cigar with Insouciance' and also help wrangle Sid and Nancy (the donkeys). It will be a grande time and I am much looking forward to it. Vivian and the Mrs are quite the hostesses, the absinthe runs freely at their urban bungalow, I must say. Oh I will be twitpicing it, trust me.

And then, finally, next week: A trip to Chicago. Which hello, you know, I love that place. I can only hope I have wised up from the last time = out until 5am and feeling like shit at an 8am meeting. FYI this is something you do not want to do, particularly if you are not as young as you used to be which I am not. I will however be repeating my trip to Tuscany for dinner, trust.

Ok, I think that's it. Rinse/repeat and the beat goes on.

ps. Sometimes I wish I didn't like Ryan Adams so much, but there you go.