The Quarterly Review of Stuff

bib_specialist @ 2009-06-08T12:07:00

2009-06-08T16:07:42Z

bib_specialist @ 2009-05-04T15:43:00

2009-05-04T19:45:16Z

Stephanie.

My girl.

Thank you, sweetheart.

*hug*

Aaaaaaargh!!!

2009-04-15T14:12:45Z

Obama the pirate-killer

2009-04-14T20:52:35Z

http://jamiemottram.tumblr.com/post/96079947/obama-the-pirate-killer-in-graph-form

Marilyn Chambers dead

2009-04-14T19:26:13Z

Porn star Marilyn Chambers found dead in L.A. County home

Marilyn Chambers, a former Ivory Snow detergent model who became a porn star, died Sunday at her Canyon Country home. She was 56.

Chambers, whose real name is Marilyn Ann Taylor, was found unresponsive at 8:51 p.m. at her residence it the 16000 block of Vasquez Canyon, said Los Angeles County coroner's spokesman Ed Winter. The cause of death is under investigation but foul play was not suspected and an autopsy is pending.

Chambers became a pop culture phenomenon when she gave up work as a model advertising Ivory Snow laundry detergent to star in the X-rated "Behind the Green Door" in 1972.

The movie also sparked a buying frenzy on boxes of Ivory Snow soap, then graced by Chambers' angelically complexioned face.

Happy birthday, TJ

2009-04-13T18:25:20Z

Thomas Jefferson (April 13, 1743 – July 4, 1826)^[1] was the third President of the United States (1801–1809), the principal author of the Declaration of Independence (1776), and one of the most influential Founding Fathers for his promotion of the ideals of republicanism in the United States. Major events during his presidency include the Louisiana Purchase (1803) and the Lewis and Clark Expedition (1804–1806).

Born	April 13 [O.S. April 2] 1743 Shadwell, Virginia
Died	July 4, 1826 (aged 83) Charlottesville, Virginia

bib_specialist @ 2009-04-10T09:35:00

2009-04-10T13:36:04Z

bib_specialist @ 2009-04-09T12:17:00

2009-04-09T16:20:02Z

Today at my job I am dealing with books on WW2, mostly British, some of them about the RAF. So, I am thinking of this:

A squadron leader, just off on a mission, runs past, and dashes into a Nissen hut

CAPTION: Somewhere in England, 1944

The squadron leader enters an RAF officers' mess and takes off his helmet

Bovril (Terry J.): Morning, squadron leader.
Squadron Leader (Eric): What-ho, Squiffy.
Bovril: How was it?
Squadron Leader: Top hole. Bally Jerry pranged his kite right in the how's your father. Hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy, took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harper's and caught his can in the Bertie.
Bovril: Er, I'm afraid I don't quite follow you, squadron leader.
Squadron Leader: It's perfectly ordinary banter, Squiffy. Bally Jerry ... pranged his kite right in the how's yer father ... hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy, took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harper's and caught his can in the Bertie.
Bovril: No, I'm just not understanding banter at all well today. Give us it slower.
Squadron Leader: Banter's not the same if you say it slower, Squiffy.
Bovril: Hold on, then. (shouts) Wingco!
Wingco (Graham): Yes!
Bovril: Bend an ear to the squadron leader's banter for a sec, would you?
Wingco: Can do.
Bovril: Jolly good.
Wingco: Fire away.
Squadron Leader: (draws a deep breath and looks slightly uncertain, then starts even more deliberately then before) Bally Jerry ... pranged his kite ... right in the how's your father ... hairy blighter ... dicky-birdied ... ... feathered back on his Sammy ... took a waspy ... flipped over on his Betty Harper's ... and caught his can in the Bertie.
Wingco: ... No, don't understand that banter at all.
Squadron Leader: Something up with my banter, chaps?

A siren goes. The door bursts open and an out-of-breath young pilot rushes in in his flying gear.

Pilot (Michael): Bunch of monkeys on your ceiling, sir! Grab your egg and fours and let's get the bacon delivered.

General incomprehension. They look at each other

Wingco: Do you understand that?
Squadron Leader: No, didn't get a word of it.
Wingco: Sorry old man, we don't understand your banter.
Pilot: You know ... bally ten-penny ones dropping in the custard ... (searching for the words) um ... Charlie Choppers chucking a handful ...
Wingco: No, no ... sorry.
Bovril: Say it a bit slower, old chap.
Pilot: Slower banter, sir?
Wingco: Ra-ther!
Pilot: Um ... sausage squad up the blue end!
Squadron Leader: No, still don't get it.
Pilot: Um ... cabbage crates coming over the briny?
Squadron Leader: No.
Wingco, Pilot and Bovril: No, no ...

Stock film of a German bombing raid.

Voice Over (Michael): But by then it was too late. The first cabbage crates hit London by July 7th. That was just the beginning...

http://www.orangecow.org/pythonet/sketches/rafbante.htm

AIG

2009-03-18T21:27:20Z

I just love Jonathan Turley.

Turley: And I think part of the anger here really shouldn't be directed at AIG. We all knew what AIG was. The anger, and legitimately can be directed at Congress and both parties. I mean you have these members going around expressing complete shock. But you know when you give billions and billions of dollars to the Pirates of Penzance you can hardly be surprised if they, you know, spend it on women and grog.

Aaaaargh, ye maties.

http://videocafe.crooksandliars.com/heather/jonathan-turley-questions-whether-we-can-recoup

Iceland's economic crisis

2009-03-05T15:29:31Z

By Michael Lewis

Because Iceland is really just one big family, it’s simply annoying to go around asking Icelanders if they’ve met Björk. Of course they’ve met Björk; who hasn’t met Björk? Who, for that matter, didn’t know Björk when she was two? “Yes, I know Björk,” a professor of finance at the University of Iceland says in reply to my question, in a weary tone. “She can’t sing, and I know her mother from childhood, and they were both crazy. That she is so well known outside of Iceland tells me more about the world than it does about Björk.”

http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/features/2009/04/iceland200904?printable=true&currentPage=all

bib_specialist @ 2009-03-04T09:51:00

2009-03-04T14:53:14Z

Late this afternoon, in keeping with apologies to Rush Limbaugh from Georgia Republican Phil Gingrey and RNC Chairman Michael Steele, Rep. Alan Grayson (D-FL) issued the following statement:

“I’m sorry Limbaugh called for harsh sentences for drug addicts while he was a drug addict. I’m also sorry that he’s bent on seeing America fail. And I’m sorry that Limbaugh is one sorry excuse for a human being.”

The Congressman then rejoined his Democratic colleagues in working on cleaning up George W. Bush’s mess.

http://downwithtyranny.blogspot.com/2009/03/breaking-news-alan-grayson-apologizes.html

bib_specialist @ 2009-02-23T14:17:00

2009-02-23T19:17:45Z

C Span rates the presidents

2009-02-16T22:37:08Z

The results of CSpan's survey of historians:

http://www.c-span.org/PresidentialSurvey/Overall-Ranking.aspx

So much of this is wrong. Kennedy and Reagan are ridiculously overrated; Jackson is underrated; William Henry Harrison and Garfield should not even be on the list; Eisenhower is also overrated, though not by much. I am pleasantly surprised at the good showing of TR, my favorite president. I also think that FDR should be no. 2 and Washington 3. Surveys like this are somewhat misleading, because there is no way to compare modern presidents with those of the 19th century, who did not have worldwide responsibilities. The weak 19th century presidents- those between Jackson and Lincoln and between Lincoln and TR- were "bad" presidents in a different way than the "bad" modern presidents like W. When the 19th century ones fucked up, it didn't affect the whole world like modern presidents do.

bib_specialist @ 2009-02-10T15:07:00

2009-02-10T20:08:59Z

Eye Witness: Whatever happened to the great British liquid lunch?

Alcohol and the workplace no longer mix.

By Cole Moreton

Sunday, 12 August 2001

Four o'clock in the afternoon and a drunk is slumped on a chair outside McDonald's at Liverpool Street station, gulping down hot black coffee. He should catch a train, but his befuddled legs won't work properly. I know, because this sad case is me.

It's all the editor's fault. Go out for a few pints, he said. Three-quarters of bosses want to ban lunchtime boozing, according to a survey published last week, and one in three is thinking of introducing random testing for drink and drugs. But not mine. Oh no. He ordered me to take a liquid lunch in the name of duty, to see who else was doing it. Fair enough, I thought, better show willing.

The Brache is a new pub under the flight path at Luton, next door to the huge Vauxhall car plant and surrounded by office complexes. Something like 1,500 people work within walking distance, and the only other place to eat is a burger van. Surely I could find some drinking companions there.

Easyjet planes hauled themselves into the air overhead as men and women from Vauxhall head office wandered across to the pub, security passes tucked into suit pockets. The men preferred to stand by the bar in the traditional way – but their pint glasses were full of Diet Coke.

"There has been a real change in attitudes," said Neil Lucas, who had flown down from Edinburgh for a business meeting. "It is now socially acceptable to have an orange and lemonade, whereas in the past there was real peer pressure to have a beer."

All he had to do was get back on an aeroplane, so I managed to tempt Mr Lucas to a single pint of IPA. "I wouldn't do this if I was going back to the office today."

Habits have changed dramatically, said Gary Loader, the pub manager. "When I first started in this business you would see people getting absolutely smashed, then driving back to the office two or three hours later."

It took a while to find two ale drinkers. Mark Smith and Mike Murray, engineering consultants, had just finished an important presentation.

"Now we're celebrating with a half pint," said Mr Smith. "It wasn't planned and it isn't a regular thing," insisted Mr Murray, sounding guilty.

"We would never normally think of going into a pub," said Mr Smith. "And even if we do we normally drink mineral water. If a colleague came to the office with alcohol on his breath, that would be a subject for comment."

Drugs and alcohol are said to cost industry an estimated £2.8bn a year through absenteeism and reduced efficiency. Last week's survey, conducted by two charities with the magazine Personnel Today, found bosses yearning for strict measures despite the advice of experts.

"We need to get to a situation where organisations feel equipped to deal with people's problems in a sympathetic manner," said Mary-Ann McKibben of Alcohol Concern, "not through kneejerk reactions such as blanket testing or automatic sackings."

But it was clear from the Brache that many bosses had already terrified their workers into going teetotal at lunchtime. The final and extraordinary proof came from Mr Loader, who said the best-selling product at this public house surrounded by thirsty workers was ... water.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/this-britain/eye-witness-whatever-happened-to-the-great-british-liquid-lunch-665497.html

The Cars in Caracas

2009-01-30T17:58:15Z

by John Updike

The cars in Caracas

create a ruckukus,

a four-wheeled fracacas,

taxaxis and truckes.

Aw, damn

2009-01-27T19:33:37Z

John Updike, Author, Dies at 76

NEW YORK (AP) -- John Updike, the Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist, prolific man of letters and erudite chronicler of sex, divorce and other adventures in the postwar prime of the American empire, died Tuesday at age 76.

Updike, a resident of Beverly Farms, Mass., died of lung cancer, according to a statement from his publisher, Alfred A. Knopf.

A literary writer who frequently appeared on best-seller lists, the tall, hawk-nosed Updike wrote novels, short stories, poems, criticism, the memoir ''Self-Consciousness'' and even a famous essay about baseball great Ted Williams. He was prolific, even compulsive, releasing more than 50 books in a career that started in the 1950s. Updike won virtually every literary prize, including two Pulitzers, for ''Rabbit Is Rich'' and ''Rabbit at Rest,'' and two National Book Awards.

Although himself deprived of a Nobel, he did bestow it upon one of his fictional characters, Henry Bech, the womanizing, egotistical Jewish novelist who collected the literature prize in 1999.

His settings ranged from the court of ''Hamlet'' to postcolonial Africa, but his literary home was the American suburb. Born in 1932, Updike spoke for millions of Depression-era readers raised by ''penny-pinching parents,'' united by ''the patriotic cohesion of World War II'' and blessed by a ''disproportionate share of the world's resources,'' the postwar, suburban boom of ''idealistic careers and early marriages.''

He captured, and sometimes embodied, a generation's confusion over the civil rights and women's movements, and opposition to the Vietnam War. Updike was called a misogynist, a racist and an apologist for the establishment. On purely literary grounds, he was attacked by Norman Mailer as the kind of author appreciated by readers who knew nothing about writing.

But more often he was praised for his flowing, poetic writing style. Describing a man's interrupted quest to make love, Updike likened it ''to a small angel to which all afternoon tiny lead weights are attached.'' Nothing was too great or too small for Updike to poeticize. He might rhapsodize over the film projector's ''chuckling whir'' or look to the stars and observe that ''the universe is perfectly transparent: we exist as flaws in ancient glass.''

In the richest detail, his books recorded the extremes of earthly desire and spiritual zealotry, whether the comic philandering of the preacher in ''A Month of Sundays'' or the steady rage of the young Muslim in ''Terrorist.'' Raised in the Protestant community of Shillington, Pa., where the Lord's Prayer was recited daily at school, Updike was a lifelong churchgoer influenced by his faith, but not immune to doubts.

http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2009/01/27/books/AP-Obit-Updike.html?_r=1&hp

CNN) -- Author John Updike, regarded as one of the greatest and most prolific writers in modern American letters, died Tuesday, his publicist said. He was 76.

John Updike won many literary awards. His books, such as "The Witches of Eastwick," were best-sellers.

Updike passed away Tuesday morning after battling lung cancer.

"He was one of our greatest writers, and he will be sorely missed," said Nicholas Latimer, vice president of publicity at Updike's publisher, Alfred A. Knopf.

Updike was a rarity among American writers: a much-esteemed, prize-winning author whose books -- including "Rabbit, Run" (1959), "Couples" (1968), "The Witches of Eastwick" (1984) and "Terrorist" (2006) -- were also best-sellers. Updike won the Pulitzer Prize twice: for "Rabbit Is Rich" (1981) and its successor, "Rabbit at Rest" (1991).

The "Rabbit" series, about an angst-ridden car dealer in a town much like Updike's hometown of Shillington, Pennsylvania, spanned four novels, a novella and 42 years. In the books -- which also included 1971's "Rabbit Redux" and a 2001 novella, "Rabbit Remembered" -- onetime basketball star Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom negotiates marriage, divorce, wealth and health problems, never quite understanding the larger forces shaping his life.

Updike was incredibly prolific, penning essays, reviews, short stories, poetry and a memoir. His works frequently appeared in The New Yorker, including a famed 1960 essay about Ted Williams' final game, "Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu."

He was hailed by his fellow author Nicholson Baker in "U and I" and even appeared as an animated version of himself on a "Simpsons" episode as the ghostwriter of a Krusty the Klown book.

Updike's most recent novel, "The Widows of Eastwick," came out in 2008. A collection of stories, "My Father's Tears and Other Stories," is due out later this year.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/books/01/27/obit.updike/index.html

bib_specialist @ 2009-01-27T10:49:00

2009-01-27T15:50:50Z

This makes me want to get trapped under a couch.

Man trapped by sofa sipped whisky

Joe Galliott said the whisky kept him going

A man who became trapped beneath his sofa for two days said he survived by sipping from a bottle of whisky.

Joe Galliott, 65, lost his bearings during a power cut at his home in Yeovil, Somerset, and fell against the three-seater which toppled onto him.

Because of back problems, he was unable to free his 19-stone frame and remained stuck for 60 hours until a neighbour spotted him through the curtains.

He said a bottle of whisky, which had rolled within reach, kept him going.

"The whole settee tipped over catching me like a rat in a trap," he said

"I took a sip of [the whisky] and thought, well this isn't too bad."

Curtains closed

But after several hours without food or water, he admits, he became quite worried.

"It felt like a lifetime, you think you're there forever," he said.

The alarm was raised by a neighbour who had peered through the window, after becoming concerned that Mr Galliott's curtains had not been drawn for two days.

He spent five days recovering in hospital after his ordeal earlier this month.

Mr Galliott said he was keeping another bottle of whisky by the sofa "just in case."

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/somerset/7853328.stm

: ^ )

2009-01-23T15:59:45Z

Glinda Arrives at State

By Scott Horton

One thing seems clear regarding Condoleezza Rice’s stewardship of the State Department: she did not command the admiration of many of those who worked with her. The reaction of State Department employees as Hillary Clinton arrived this morning apparently bears comparison to the liberation of Paris at the end of World War II.

There are great hopes for Hillary at State. I met last week with a number of career State Department employees and was surprised when one said she was looking forward to the “Glinda Party” next week. I asked her: if Hillary was Glinda, the Good Witch of the South from the Wizard of Oz, did that make Condoleezza Rice the Wicked Witch of the West?

“You’re on to it,” she said. Another person pointed out to me that after Rice’s arrival in 2005 the tone of official State Department publications changed; they began to praise and glorify Rice. “No prior secretary,” said the twenty-year veteran, “did anything like this.”

http://harpers.org/archive/2009/01/hbc-90004258

Number 6 has left The Village

2009-01-22T15:29:24Z

Patrick McGoohan, star of 'The Prisoner,' dies

(CNN) -- Emmy-winning Patrick McGoohan, the actor who created one of British television's most surreal thrillers, has died aged 80, according to British media reports.

Fans holding placards of Patrick McGoohan recreate a scene from 'The Prisoner' to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the show in 2007.

The Press Association, quoting his son-in-law Cleve Landsberg, reported he died in Los Angeles after a short illness.

McGoohan, star of the 1960s show 'The Danger Man,' is best remembered for writing and starring in 'The Prisoner' about a former spy locked away in an isolated village who tries to escape each episode.

The Internet Movie Data Base Web site says the "mysterious final episode caused such an uproar that McGoohan was to desert England for more than 20 years."

In a long career in TV and movies, he was King Edward Longshanks in 'Braveheart,' and he won two Emmys for work on the 'Columbo' series starring Peter Falk.

He also did a voiceover on 'The Simpsons' cartoon of his character in 'The Prisoner.'

He was born in Astoria, New York to Irish emigrants but the family returned to Ireland shortly afterwards. McGoohan was raised in Ireland and England.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/TV/01/14/obit.mcgoohan/index.html

(CBS/AP) Patrick McGoohan, an actor who created and starred in the cult classic TV show "The Prisoner," died Tuesday in Los Angeles after a short illness. He was 80.

His son-in-law, film producer Cleve Landsberg, announced the news Wednesday.

McGoohan starred in the 1960s CBS series "Secret Agent," and won two Emmys for his guest appearances on the detective drama "Columbo." Most recently he appeared as King Edward Longshanks in the 1995 Mel Gibson Academy Award-winning film "Braveheart."

But he was most famous as the character known only as Number Six in "The Prisoner," a 1968 British series about a spy who resigns from the intelligence service, only to be abducted and held captive in a mysterious haven known as The Village. There his overseers strip him of his identity in their attempts to glean information, while thwarting his attempts to escape.

Prior to "The Prisoner," McGoohan starred in "Secret Agent" (also known as "Danger Man"), which debuted in 1964, and whose memorable theme song seemed to speak of the hazards facing the characters in both series ("They've given you a number, and taken away your name").

McGoohan's agent, Sharif Ali, said Wednesday that the actor was still active in Hollywood, with two offers for wide-release films on the table when he died. "The man was just cool," Ali said. "It was an honor to have him here and work with him. ... He was one of those actors, a real actor. He didn't have a lie."

Born in New York on March 19, 1928, McGoohan was raised in England and Ireland, where his family moved shortly after his birth. He had a busy stage career before moving to television, and won a London Drama Critics Award for playing the title role in the Henrik Ibsen play "Brand."

He married stage actress Joan Drummond in 1951. The oldest of their three daughters, Catherine, is also an actress.

After "Secret Agent"'s success," McGoohan pitched to producers the surreal and cerebral "The Prisoner" to give himself a challenge. McGoohan also wrote and directed several episodes of the series.

Although only 17 episodes were made, it became a cult favorite, and its cultural impact continues, as evident by his guest appearance playing Number Six in a 2000 episode of "The Simpsons."

The show is being remade as a series for AMC to premiere later this year.

"His creation of 'The Prisoner' made an indelible mark on the sci-fi, fantasy and political thriller genres, creating one of the most iconic characters of all time," AMC said in a statement Wednesday. "AMC hopes to honor his legacy in our re-imagining of 'The Prisoner.'"

Later came smaller roles in film and television. McGoohan won Emmys for guest spots on "Columbo" 16 years apart, in 1974 and 1990.

His film credits include "Ice Station Zebra," the 1979 Clint Eastwood film "Escape from Alcatraz," the John Grisham courtroom drama "A Time To Kill," "Silver Streak," and "Scanners." He also starred in the 1963 Disney TV film "The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh," playing an 18th century English country priest who thwarts the king's minions as a disguised avenger.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/01/14/entertainment/main4722806.shtml?source=RSSattr=Entertainment_4722806

Dammit. Fuck fuck fuck.

I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered.

North by Northwest- a movie about a suit

2009-01-13T18:09:10Z

North by Northwest isn’t a film about what happens to Cary Grant, it’s about what happens to his suit. The suit has the adventures, a gorgeous New York suit threading its way through America. The title sequence in which the stark lines of a Madison Avenue office building are ‘woven’ together could be the construction of Cary in his suit right there — he gets knitted into his suit, into his job, before our very eyes. Indeed some of the popular ‘suitings’ of that time (‘windowpane’ or ‘glen plaid’) perfectly complemented office buildings. Cary’s suit reflects New York, identifies him as a thrusting exec, but also arms him, protects him: what else is a suit for? Reflects and Protects: a slogan Cary’s character, Roger Thornhill, might have come up with himself.

http://www.granta.com/Magazine/Granta-94/Cary-Grants-Suit/Page-1

Ron Rico. Wasn't he that short painter?

2009-01-12T21:07:31Z

This ad was one of a series in a campaign from the 60s and 70s, satirizing the confusing of the name Ron Rico with the names of celebrities.

I drink alone

2009-01-12T20:37:06Z

I drink alone, yeah,
with nobody else
I drink alone, yeah,
with nobody else
You know when I drink alone,
I prefer to be by myself

Every morning just before breakfast,
I don't want no coffee or tea
Just me and my good buddy Weiser,
that's all I ever need
'Cause I drink alone, yeah,
with nobody else
Yeah, you know when I drink alone,
I prefer to be by myself

The other night I laid sleeping,
and I woke from a terrible dream
So I called up my pal Jack Daniels,
and his partner Jimmy Beam
And we drank alone, yeah,
with nobody else
Yeah, you know when I drink alone,
I prefer to be by myself

The other day I got invited to a party,
but I stayed home instead
Just me and my pal Johnny Walker,
and his brothers Black and Red
And we drank alone, yeah,
with nobody else
Yeah, you know when I drink alone,
I prefer to be by myself

My whole family done give up on me,
and it makes me feel oh so bad
The only one who will hang out with me,
is my dear Old Granddad
And we drink alone, yeah,
with nobody else
Yeah, you know when I drink alone,
I prefer to be by myself

bib_specialist @ 2009-01-08T15:02:00

2009-01-08T20:03:05Z

Lindsay Lohan: I Work As Hard As Scarlett Johansson

Well, thanks for clearing that up, dearie.

Guy Lombardo

2008-12-31T20:09:54Z

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Lombardo

Lombardo's orchestra played at the Roosevelt Hotel in New York City from 1929 to 1959, and their New Year's Eve broadcasts (which continued with Lombardo until 1976 at the Waldorf Astoria) were a major part of New Year's celebrations across North America. Even after Lombardo's death, the band's New Year's specials continued for air two more years on CBS.

In 1938, he became a naturalized citizen of the United States. The Royal Canadians were noted for playing the traditional song "Auld Lang Syne" as part of the celebrations. Their recording of the song still plays as the first song of the new year in Times Square.

Jim Morrison

2008-12-08T19:34:04Z

James Douglas Morrison, born 65 years ago today.

Moonlight Drive

Let's swim to the moon, uh huh
Let's climb through the tide
Penetrate the evenin' that the
City sleeps to hide
Let's swim out tonight, love
It's our turn to try
Parked beside the ocean
On our moonlight drive

Let's swim to the moon, uh huh
Let's climb through the tide
Surrender to the waiting worlds
That lap against our side

Nothin' left open
And no time to decide
We've stepped into a river
On our moonlight drive

Let's swim to the moon
Let's climb through the tide
You reach your hand to hold me
But I can't be your guide

Easy, I love you
As I watch you glide
Falling through wet forests
On our moonlight drive, baby
Moonlight drive

Come on, baby, gonna take a little ride
Down, down by the ocean side
Gonna get real close
Get real tight
Baby gonna drown tonight
Goin' down, down, down