Faultlessly exquisite and supremely sublime. All of human experience in one piece.
It may sound familiar to you from when it was used as the closing shot soundtrack in Ocean's Eleven.
In case 5 minutes isn't enough, and you need an hour of it looped together seamlessly, here you go:
7 comments:
Also used towards the end of "The Right Stuff"; the Mercury guys are watching Sally Rand fan dance to this tune. Great scene.
Boat Guy
''Clair de Lune'. English translation: 'Clear the saloon.' ' [Victor Borge]
The only music I ever wanted to be able to play on the piano. It starts deceptively simple, then gets famously complex. The key, though, is the ability to express phrasing which sadly is beyond my modest skills.
Fabulous Debussy !!
Off topic request.
Would be interested in your comments on this interview by Kirsch with a Cali nurse:
https://kirschsubstack.com/p/the-single-most-important-interview
Thanks
LP
Very nice!
I seem to remember a certain faggot faced californian wringing his hands in fright and screaming about mass graves.
I dunno who's funnier: you - or the Fudds, geriatric boomers, and sleeping mouth breathers that come to feed at your chamber pot...
HAR HAR HAR!
Promise me Aesop - don't ever change... :)
Glen,
I pulled your latest comment (363 attempted comments last year? Srsly?!? FFS, I only had 425 posts. Get a life!) out of the spam filter it usually goes to, because I didn't want anyone dropping by to miss you being...you. And I figure I should let one or two through every year, so now you can go home happy because you had your fifteen seconds of glory.
Obviously you only have a low-70s IQ, and have never been shy about demonstrating it, but since this information is news to you, there's a widget on this blog at the bottom of the front page that lets you - and anyone else - search the blog for any-damn-thing you can imagine.
I triple dog dare you, Canuckistani King Of Shit-For-Brains, to try that with the phrase "mass graves", and then come back here and tell the class how many times I said any such thing with regard to Covid.
When you come up with exactly zero, go get yourself checked at the clinic.
The tertiary syphilis is back, and rotting your brain harder than last time (and you didn't have any to spare even before that). Clearly your memory is shorter than your wedding tackle, but then I always figured you for the catcher, not the pitcher. And clearly, your lumberjack boyfriend wasn't as clean as he told you he was. Bummer. You might have to skip this year's Pride Parade and after-party until the antibiotics clear things up.
Thanks for dropping by to show your ass, as usual, and reminding me why nothing you ever said is worth listening to, except as comedy relief from the Moron Brigade. Say hi to all your fellow lackwits. They'll be in good company with you, as long as they use protection.
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