Chingang Play Count (We are the Robots)

It feels like winter, at last.
Freezing, or at least it seems to me, coming down with the first official cold of the season.
I spend the entire day at home, wrapped in blankets, close to the box of kleenex. Actually, since I'm thrifty (cheap), next to a pile of Chipotle napkins.
Marco strongly recommended taking one of those new cold medications that have been multiplying lately at Duane Reade. So I splurged, reluctantly, but fell into hopelessness upon reading "Best taken at the first sign of a cold."
Too late honey... I have to live long enough to see the introduction of a Morning After Cold Pill.
I'm working, at home, and starting next monday at one of those Midwestern Home Decor Magazines. Boo-hoo... take a look at the web icon in your browser next to the www: It's fucking gingham.
I faked excitement during the interview reviewing the dull samples of Home Depot mailers. They believed it, and I'll be depressed soon, but with a roof over my head. I guess that counts for something, right? Actually I should say "correct." Correct, Joe?
So, thankfully the stream of work is finally turned on. Finding myself even too busy. Thank you Troy, you angel, you pixie.
You tasteless punk: I had to throw away the new Gwen Stefani album for good. Even the idea of owning such crap bothered me. Don't try it.
Of course, the joy of working at home, is mostly about listening to music, lots of it. Electronic music? You bet.
That's what I like, correct?
It's not an exclusive affair but I won't go into "Oh-no-I-Like-all-types-of-music" cheesiness. Oh no-no-no-no-NO! (dramatic pause.)
No-no-no-no I'm not leaving without you... I'm wagging my finger already. I'm such a closeted showtune queen.
I wanna hate that song and I do. I really do. But it's beyond train-wreck spectacle... it's a Tsunami-size disaster in high-resolution. On a 72inch Plasma screen. You HAVE to watch, therefore you have to listen. And again. And again.
Also I've been awashed in Dreamgirls promotion mode lately so exposure to gospel-multi-octaves is mandatory/inevitable.
Here's how I'm spending my days.

However, to work, I mostly switch to my other kind (first is electronic, not showtunes, shut UP!) of favorite music: Overly orchestral, moody, atmospheric, soundtracky music, complete with sweeping, all-engulfing strings, and tinkling grand pianos set on high-reverb.
Last night I downloaded the most perfect mixtape ever: LateNightTales by Air.
Ah... it's the supreme version of what I've tried to assemble forever. Like the title says, late night high-low music. Black Sabbath and Ravel. That magnificent piece from Godard's Contempt. And Sebastien Tellier.
Every day is a good day when I discover a new artist. And today I'm liking Monsieur Tellier a lot.
And at the end of my late night playlist, to wake up, good old Junior Boys. Legal download here.
And you, and you, and you, you're gonna love me.