..your dancing just doesn't have any feeling to it anymore. Even locked away in the privacy of your own room. It's just gone. The lust for life. Or something.
Okay, so we've established that the depression has sunk in. And we can blame it on everything. So enough wallowing and self-pitying. I assume it doesn't make for good reading.
Hot Chip.
I may proclaim this I'm-totally-obsessed-with-Hot-Chip Week. In which there will be an out-pouring of adoration, sharing of pictures, videos and music, and, well, the icing on your great big Hot Chip cake, a possibly personal admission or two. Ahem.
Woo! Huzzah! Woo and huzzah!
Let's have my old reliable favourite from Coming On Strong. There was a point in my life when I was totally obsessed with this track. And I still love it.
Hot Chip - Playboy [via YouSendIt for 7 days]
So this random week of Hot Chip lovin' will run Wednesday to Wednesday, as I am totally defiant of the days of the week, obviously.
If this makes no sense, is in any way odd or strange then I blame it on the fact I reckon I'm still recovering from some sort of alcohol poisoning. Not recommended.
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