J'ai des choses à faire...

...mais je ne veux pas les faire. Meh.

For months now I've had a song in my head. It's been there, on and off, every single goddam muthafucking cocksucking tabarnak d'un jour. The song?



I Know Him So Well, definitive interpretation by Elaine Paige and Barbara Dickson (the Whitney/Cissy Houston one is atrocious.

This is the best of two things to come out of the Benny Andersson (swoon! Schwing! jawnbc's first bear crush), Bjorn Ulvaeus and Tim Rice's icky, icky musical Chess. The other good thing, of course, mais oui, was One Night in Bangkok by Murray Head. I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine.

I Know Him So Well is a duet between a world champion chess player's wife and mistress. One sings of him as being a free spirit, the other characterizes him as someone needing structure and a home life. Yet they each "know him so well>"

Here's a sample of the lyrics:

No one in your life is with you constantly
No one is completely on your side
And though I move my world to be with him
Still the gap between us is too wide

Looking back I could have played it differently
(Looking back I could have played things some other way)
Learned about the man before I fell
(I was just a little careless maybe)
But I was ever so much younger then
(Much younger then)
Now at least I know him well
Now at least I know I know him well

Wasn't it good, wasn't he fine
Isn't it madness
He won't be mine
But in the end he needs a little bit more than me
More security
He needs his fantasy and freedom
I know him so well
It took time to understand him
I know him so well

querrelle, honey-baby, love of my life, homme de ma vie, this earworm is in no way a sublimal message about the state of our marriage. OK?

Thank you Amazon.uk

Look what came in the post today:




Squee!