Audio post - Played 2 times
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]I’m inclined to say that Chet Baker is the nicest voice. Not the best, no; it’s not Ella’s nor Sarah Vaughan’s nor even Dean Martin’s … but it is very very nice.
Having left my last day of class unattended on Friday, I’ve proceded to live a life of complete fabulosity.
I stayed in bed (in the sun, no less) all day with these things three:
- E.M. Forster
- leftover mulled wine
- Dean Martin
Surely the best combination. EVER. I punctuated Howard’s End with trimming my nails (yes, all twenty) - with the wine and Dino still, but also with the addition of my Raybans and a window open onto the sunny street. All of this, needless to say, in my skimpy new MacPherson Men’s hot pink trunks.
Freedom!
I deeply wish I could pull off that yellow.
I’ve got to keep on pushing mmmmmmm-hmmmmm
I can’t stop now.
Move up a little higher!
Some way - somehow.‘Cause I’ve got my strength
And it don’t make sense
Not to keep on pushing.Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Keep on pushing!
He is the Count and he luuuurrrves to count.
Additionally, he luuuurrrves to jump (especially at The Woodside), to take the A train, to not misbehave (and split infinitives), to grow accustomed to her face. But most of all, he luuuurrrves that anything goes.
And - b’god - can those jazzmen dress!
you got the nicest North America
this sailor ever saw
I’d like to feel your warm
Brazil, touch your Panama
well your Tierra del Fuegos
are nearly always froze
we got to see-saw until we unthaw
those Popsicle Toes
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