Agnes Fidget

Aesthete, robot freak, DJ, bumbler.

I think I am finally beginning to see why DJs hate doing weddings so much. Last night was rough - tons of really drunk people pestering me to play ‘hip-hop’ when they meant dumb club jams, some lady telling me I didn’t know what I was doing, someone requesting ‘Talk Dirty To Me’, ugh!  

The ‘Talk Dirty To Me’ conversation:

Requestor: Do you have ‘Talk Dirty To Me?’

Me: I don’t have it, sorry.

Requestor: YOU DON’T?  You know, it’s by..(takes out phone to look it up)

Me: Jason Derulo.  The song is by Jason Derulo, and I don’t have it.

I was very nice about the whole thing, I swear, but these people were definitely pushing it.

But on the other hand, a 17-year old girl working for the catering company was fawning over me, asking if she could intern at my company during the fall quarter, asking me how one becomes a DJ.  That mostly made up for the horrible people.

While we were driving home, I had my husband put on some music he thought would cleanse my sonic palate - so of course he picks ‘Ostia (The Death of Pasolini)’ by Coil and Conrad Schnitzler, bless him.

What I'm Worth

ibelieveyouitsnotyourfault:

By Carrie P

image

The early nineties were a crazy exciting time for this chubby little teenager. The Internet was just starting to be a real thing and my parents had finally, finally bought a computer for the house. We had an AOL account for the family—this was back when everyone had dial-up and…

I relate to this article deeply - from the invisibility I experienced as a young person (and still do, largely) to the liberation AOL chat rooms brought me to the chatting with old guys online.  I never did meet one in real life, but I am sure I would have if someone had asked.  

matineemoustache:

Ready for some civilised slashing of faces with swords

The Life And Death Of Colonel Blimp (1943)

*best viewed enlarged

(Source: matinee-moustache)

Stills from The Tales of Hoffmann, by Powell and Pressburger.