Roundness. Rotundity. (variations on a theme)

Ohmygodwhoisthisgirl; I want to buy her things and show her off in public.
Oh my god–good for you, mama:

(Outfit that I am barred from wearing in public due to body type and the unfairness of life, unless I want to look like a complete hooker. Hipless British girls out shopping have no such worries, however.)

Bright Eyes has that new song called “Haile Selassie,” which is a problem, obviously. Hitchhiking back to Zion/Holding our tears as we flip the album/What if this leads to ruin?/You got a soul–use it. This kind of pretentiousness is only acceptable if you wear a metal facemask or an Elvis hair thingy, and then it’s somehow not pretentious but perfect, weird, and poetic instead. I maybe turn it up the damn song when I’m out driving and it comes on KCRW in spite of myself, though. I’m kind of a weak person. (it’s got a pretty melody and throbby guitar work, what can I do) It’s educational, too–All this despair forgiven/Rolling away on the Wheel of Sevens, Conor sings. The Wheel of Sevens, I learned, is a cosmological diagram, a Christian kind of choose-your-own-adventure regarding how to live, except all the adventures are about behaving nicely and not having sex. I was raised by glorious heathens in a weed den so I know little of the superstitious ways of Christians, but from a design perspective the thing is beautiful.
Best eyes in the game: Sadat X, Andre 3000, Waka, Madlib, every Wu god, the brothers Thornton, F. Gibbs, Ty. It’s so cute when he tells Syd to be quiet about her romantic exploits. Aw.
I thought Gucci was like 23 but he turned 31 last week! That’s some hard living, I guess. I also thought he was the most stylish man I had ever seen with my own two eyes until I saw this kid from an old Vice mag.

Then I saw this dude and I said to myself, OHH. And that’s where I’ve been ever since.

Round and round/round we go said Tupac, whose name was on LA sports talk radio today for a hilarious reason. The Pac 10 is going to become the Pac 12, which of course is ridiculous and dumb (Colorado and Utah, you do nothing for me plus you’re nowhere near the Pacific). The Tupac Army is strong and well-manned, it’ll never die on the Internet; it’s got domain names locked down. is already taken by a Tupac fan, which is funny to me now but this saga will probably turn dark when the dude who runs it gets a huge payout to relinquish the name and he’ll just keep the lump sum instead of giving some to Afeni or donating it to Pac’s old high school. I will be rather annoyed and disappointed.

You don’t know me, just met me, you won’t let me, he continues in “Round and Round,” a song that is cute radio ear candy but is nowhere near as good as “Trapped,” best Tupac song EVER (oh god with the bassline of death that’s still bouncy at the same time. Unfortunately, “Trapped” doesn’t make sense in a post about rotundity) Break out or be clowned, he says. Get naked or leave. Ladies, we’ve all been there, but oh excuse me Pac, because earlierrrr you said you don’t want it if it’s that easy. Either he’s talking to 2 different ladies, each with her own established code of behavior (a librarian and a stripper), or the things that excite him sexually are really just that hard to pin down. This is difficult stuff for a woman. It causes quite the headache. And that is why I no longer date foxy shirtless rappers, thank you.

Mambo! This mix was posted on sofritoUK, which is currently down but I’m hoping they just need to pay the bill and it’ll be back. A mambo mix is totally appropriate for a post about roundness and round things because of congas and timbales and hips, hips all day, nothing but hips, que bolá! The site has a track listing for the blues and mambo mix below but I didn’t get it while it was still available. I’m asking you to blindly accept it, this gift without song titles, because I have excellent taste and I wouldn’t lead you astray. I do remember there’s a song called “Turn Around Girl” almost at the end, which might mean Turn around so I can see your front, miss but it might mean Turn around so I can see what is happening back there. Either way, I’m feeling pretty confident. Whatever you like, boss–I got you.

Does mambo really mean “voodoo priestess,” by the way? Let’s go with it because that’s pretty cool. I bet the priestess had amazing fat hips, so amazing they named a whole style of music for her which is my dream in life.


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