DJ; RE:" Lila Dit Ca "
Sounds like one of those - you know - Cowgrrrlz get the Garden of good 100 years of solitude caught in the rye radical chic and mau-mauing the Magus books that are impossible to make American standard film-plots out of. Or something (^_^)
Hey! You be goin' to da States ?? What State be it? Me, I'd like to go to Mexico or something. You know, Limonada con rum and ceviche for breakfast on some warm beach, with warm water I could wade out in and peer down and look at a lot of cool fish or something. I think I'd settle for just being warm.
I hate being cold. In Scandinavia, they heat the wooden floors of their houses and you take off your shoes and it feels really great on your socks. Kinda like warm sand on a warm beach (oh, I already did that - nevermind). Anyway, snow makes no sense. I mean, it's like there for a while, and you shovel it around and all that, slide down it and then, it's gone. So why doesn't the sea-level rise when all the snow melts? Where does it all go? I think it's all a plot. You know, some nefarious n'er-do well (probably and Englishman) who wants to make it adjustable, so it leaks oil on your driveway, runs your grrrl-friend's hose and musses her hair.
Context? I dunno - Amsterdam was booked solid for Easter, so I couldn't get a room at the American Itch & Scratch Hotel, or anywhere else, for that matter - Easter means: "Go Some Where Else". Nobody's in Paris. Like, the streets are empty except for some guy blowing a harmonica like some old teevee Western. Maybe it's an accordian. No, it's a harmonica. I mean, you could drive a truck through here, and no one would notice. A Buick, even.
I guess that's why the Radio Paris (Cent Cinq Ungh! she says for 105.1, with a really fine grunt) is playing nothing but old, American Blues tunes. I mean, baby, I GOT THE BLUES, and IT AIN'T GETTIN' ANY WARMER HERE, man because THE FLOOR AIN'T HEATED and MY BABY AIN'T IN MY CONTEXT, DIG ?
-Steve |
