Thursday, October 25, 2012

Dreary Thursdays.

Holly Golightly: Thursday! It can't be! It's too gruesome!
Paul Varjak: What's so gruesome about Thursday?
Holly Golightly: Nothing, except I can never remember when it's coming up

           Chilly, half rain-anticipation, downright dreary days, like today, in New York are created for looooooong lunches--champagne, perhaps?--mugs full of warm beverages, black and white films, and delightful tunes. I think I've hit all of those before 5 p.m. Productivity, I tell you, at its finest.

          There's a new record store in my Brooklyn 'hood, and I spent some time perusing their in-progress collection while sipping  some coffee concoction with a little vanilla spice something or other, because it's still chilly weather, and you're legally bound to order something seasonal, right?
All her clothes are on the floor,
and all your records are scratched.
She's like a one way ticket,
'cause you can't come back.

A few gems I picked up:





And my very, very favorite...THE MECCA...The Stones "Some Girls" collectors' edition.

My record player lives for a day of grey.

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