The story of the elusive track … [or, my fandangly forgetfulness slips up …]
Today I …
*applauded* … The little people in my head.
The elusive track from my days with The BullyBoy, which saw me bopping, romping and high-ing, suddenly popped into my mind this afternoon. I was enjoying a leisurely bus journey home, fighting the urge to make spells that would scare Wicked Cyclist Women and thus leave them sprawled on the roadside, when a line from the song saw an opening in the cobwebs of my grey matter and escaped.
*passionately embraced* … Google.
Typing and sure she uses sex for love into the search thingy revealed that it was Here We Go by Shelter [for whom I have no link because their site appears to exist no longer, so they shall remain link-less].
*bopped myself on the head three times* … For being so silly.
And not remembering.
*screamed vulgar obscenities* … at iTunes.
For having no tracks by Shelter in their Music Store. You suck, Mr Apple-Mac-Tunes.
*lovingly fondled* … Amazon.
For not only enabling me the opportunity to actually buy Mantra [the album] really cheaply, but also for being the only place where I could find a smattering of the song to ‘sample’. Blissful.
*wisely remembered* … Why I loved the lyrics.
You can view them here. I think that at the time I knew that The BullyBoy wasn’t The One [despite staying with him for a further three years] and when I met him I was simply using sex as a way to prove that I could be loved. My young-ness fascinates me. I was so divinely simple in my outlook of life and men.
I’ve done an assessment on the BSM Mind Alertness Programme and was tragically horrified to realise that I’m shite at some things. And now BSM will be assessing it and they’ll let my driving instructor know and he’ll think I’m oh-so dopey. Eeek. Maybe my results will be so appalling that he refuses to let me drive his nice little car again. I shall find out tomorrow evening.
And yes, I shall endeavour to knock down Wicked Cyclist Women, even if they are on the pavement.
The weekend sees us finalising how much we can borrow with regards mortgages, viewing Our Favourite House for a second time [in the understanding that it might become Our Least Favourite House in the daytime], swimming, drinking, having Mumsy over for coffee, taking a toddle to The Blokey’s childhood home to enjoy a meal lovingly cooked by his mum, grumbling about how I still haven’t received my New York present despite The Baby Brother being home for almost a month [where is it you damn child?], sleeping [oh, joyful bliss] and ironing [I can do it quickly now ]
This link here [and again here in case you missed it] will make you laugh. Hopefully. It jolted a deeply humiliating memory that I had chosen to forget … that of screaming, although in my case it generally happened when I was a teenager … it is exactly how I sounded as a *cough* precocious *cough* teenager arguing with my siblings. Gosh, my poor Mumsy. And I can’t stop loving that music …
Once again the link is here … Go, now!
And be blessed with groovy weekends.
please God bless them all with groovy weekends, like I said xxx Elsabeth