Cue my SEO stats going through the roof. Apologies to those looking for porn.
Is it Tuesday already? So far this week I have achieved my first proper sunburn of the year (whilst wearing SPF50 and sitting under a parasol – I despair) and not much else, which can only mean that it’s all up from here.
I missed yesterday’s Tuesday Tune. I am a bad girl.
I’m having a few personal problems at the moment, which is why posts are rather patchy; I’m hoping to try and at least post a Tuesday Tune every week while I get on top of things.
For now though – a kid with a grooowl:
“Why don’t you do a Tuesday Tune song from Broadchurch?”
“Or one from Hallam Foe?”
“Or one about sunshine?”
“Or something about how fucking cute I am?”
Go on then…
Ain’t no mountain (of unpacking) high enough, ain’t no valley (of unpacking-induced desperation) low enough, ain’t no river (of unpacking-induced tears) wide enough to keep me from getting to you, babe.
p.s. Yes, I am still unpacking; interspersed with plenty of Zooborn action to keep morale up.
Baby prehensile-tailed porcupine, yes.
Something a little different for today’s Tuesday Tune. I’m dealing with the misery of unpacking, so I need this ray of sunshine in my life.
I am in the process of moving house (God only knows what number house this is; I’m sure we’re in the mid-twenties) and the title of this song says it all. Here it comes…
I didn’t quite manage to get this out on Tuesday (hey, I’m only 50 minutes late), but I’m still calling it a Tuesday Tune. I was having a bit of a life crisis earlier, and ended up having a bit of a cry down the phone to Lady Fox. Now I’m not saying that she wasn’t entirely brilliant and helpful, but we could’ve saved ourselves a lot of time and snottiness if I’d just put this on instead. I’ve no clue what’s going on with the lyrics – he could be singing about bacon for all I know – but bugger me it’s cheerful.
I am lacking in inspiration right now. I think it may be a February thing. My motivation to get up of a morning seems largely dependent on what the weather is doing, and, owing to the fact that all I can see from my bedroom window are a variety of shades of damp concrete, the urge to hibernate and re-emerge sometime in May is quite overwhelming. Perhaps we should take this song’s cue and all stay in?!
Younger, fresher, cuter.