Happy solstice!
spatch and I inaugurated the shortest night by walking out for ice cream and then returning to watch a bunch of music videos. I was infuriated to read before bed that the president of Warner Bros. Discovery cannot tell a hole in the ground from reasons not to dismantle TCM—aside from its importance to film history and preservation or its last sixteen years as a lifeline for me through life-derailing illness, it's a guaranteed moneymaker; people who otherwise couldn't want less from a cable TV package will pay for it. I am aware this is a familiar refrain. I'd rather just be singing to conjure summer in.
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Active Entries
- 1: Life, a series of memorials and signals
- 2: If you don't want the death of the party after I'm gone, sing one for me
- 3: I want to show you all the versions of myself
- 4: Once you've gone, remains the question, baby
- 5: That gossip's eye will look too soon
- 6: I left my mind behind in 2015
- 7: Your spirit watched me up the stairs
- 8: Am I just a phantom waiting to be ripped around on shady ground?
Style Credit
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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