I scream, you scream

“Let life be a bowl of melting ice cream.”

God Loves Ugly | Amosphere

Just a few things before I go to bed

- changed the design of lemonade lists. I quite like it now.
- the beginning of the fall semester. trepidation and excitement bundled into the remnants of free time.
- turning SoA Green from pet project into legit organization.
- editorial design +  corporate design and branding +  web design and usability = I should just have a sleeping bag in one of the design studios.
- running low on peaches. truly the end of summer.
- want to try: black rum bitter chocolate french toast
- Andrew Bird's Section 8 City, beautiful.  

Collin: If a tree falls in the forest while you're listening to Coldplay, do you lose indie cred? Yes.

Old timey music hour with Stephanie T.

Steph: Sometimes, when I want to remember what badass looks like, I look up Johnny Cash.

[going through Jen J.'s Rome photos on Facebook]
me: Oh, that place with all the steps and people hang out there.
Steph: Spanish steps, Piazza di Spagna.
me: Ok so here's the Colosseum. Ooh! They shot scenes from Jumper there! They don't always allow that. It's sad that I know this.
Steph:  I'm identifying Italian historical landmarks on the phone. I think we're even.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'"

and Sohe's half in love with him too

me: You know what show I never got into? That White Collar show.
Steph: THAT'S BECAUSE HE LOOKS LIKE A RAPIST! Probably the worst kind too - a date rapist!

They would probably make a ghetto fab Floating Lab version of the Bufino

[via gmail]
me: I thought of you two when I saw this.
Blake: Daniel sent this to me early this morning. Ha! Great minds and all that, right?

Would you like to start with juice, fruit, or soup?

This is how I feel at the Cheesecake Factory.

Tonight

+ I could have pho for dinner but pancakes sound so good right now. Brinner, heyyyyy.

+ I WILL finish organizing my closet tonight. Wow, I have a lot of dresses. Maybe I should write a list!

+ Phrases I'm starting to dislike hearing on Top Chef: throwing them under the bus,  sous vide, and molecular gastronomy.

+ A ridiculously expensive glass toaster that nobody needs. I kind of want it. 

+ Discussing autumnal avt trips with Muse. Hot air balloons and apple picking. I'm not really one for open heights (I almost passed out on the Eiffel Tower, embarrassing.) so you're on your own there.

+ Want to make: grilled oysters with bacon and cayenne butter and phyllo pizza with smoked mozzarella and cherry tomatoes.

+ Can't stop listening to She & Him's cover of Screamin' Jay Hawkin's  “I Put a Spell on You.”
+ Wishing a happy happy happy birthday to Justin, my gardener-in-crime. 

+ Ironically reading The AWL's article Knock it off with all the “pairing,” okay? a mere ten minutes after I read Wine Spectator's September issue with the headliner: The Art & Science of Matching Wine & Food, womp womp.
+ I discovered that Chris Thile is pretty while searching for the Wine Spectator link. Now digging the song “Raining at Sunset.”

photo from DCist

But darling, what can I do?

This song always reminds me of the house on Warwick Place, Justin Theroux and naps before working at the boulangerie.

Dance, white boy, dance!

[via Facebook comment]
me: First the video, now the photo. Maybe you shouldn't dance when there are cameras about.
Boek: I couldn't agree more, Vina.

Saturday

sounds like: Celebrity ghost stories, treadmills and the clank-clank of weight machines, the early bird cacophony at Ihop.

tastes like: gazpacho, cilantro lime rice, cookies, pancakes, hash browns, french toast, bacon, mediocre coffee.

feels like: warm & fuzzies from spending time in the kitchen with friends and summer breezes.

smells like: mandarin orange perfume and cilantro.

photo via the flashdance

We can squash this idea, or we can beet it.

La: I've made a life-changing decision.
me: (turns down music) ok, shoot.
La: I've decided that I like squash blossoms more than I like squash.

F**K YOU

I really wish this had been around when I was in the studio at five AM figuratively killing myself trying to design typographic animations in Adobe Flash. 

Side note, I like how I just reaffirmed The Cost of Living's notion that this video is just opportunistic internet fodder. Ah, well. At least I didn't post it on the Face.

Dear Punctuation, 

I want you inside of me. 

Sincerely, Quotation Marks.

Yesterday

+ Thought about writing about all of the languages I want to learn, complete with video linkage. Gave up. Ok ok ok, maybe one.

+ Printmakers Guild meeting. Richard made chili!

+ Realized that my GMU parking permit had expired. Had to park off campus then walk to SoA lugging about two pounds of peaches, a pepper mill, various kitchen utensils, and the usual suspects (camera, notebook, water, wallet, chapstick).

+ Watched Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World. You're pretentious, this club sucks, I have beef. Let's fight. 

+ I really hate the Tysons Corner area. 

+ Tysons Corner parking garage talk 2010. More peaches, future vacations, Pa's dancing skillz, emergency blinkers, “Is it getting hotter in here?,” and 80s music.

+ Searching the building for Justin when he was in his office the entire time. Awwww.

+ my great American road trip, more on that later.

+ Offering to drive someone to Fredericksburg at six in the morning. It is one in the morning now. Damn. 

+ “So we don't have time to go to Ocean City?”

+ Brazilian and French music the entire way home, so nice.

Filming the Coal War

The Coal War | Trailer 2 from Chad A. Stevens | milesfrommaybe on Vimeo.

full article on Art of the Rural

a few web flyers I did for Floating Lab's mountaintop removal/quilting project:

All the things I've done this week and all the things I should have done instead

Mark Ronson & The Business INTL's “The Bike Song.”
I do love bicycles.

Too much ice cream? I don't understand.

Mother, about her hyperactive child:
Looooong day. Long day, and too much ice cream.

Hyperactive child:
No.

via Overheard in New York

[via Facebook comment]
Lisa: i had a white peach this morning from farmers market, delish ♥
me: Why does it have to be a white peach? That is a racist statement, Malisa Vorachak!
Lisa: says the girl who said AND I QUOTE "why dont you have cute white boy friends" Ms. VINA SANANIKONE
me: It's not my fault you only have Asian friends and I don't have yellow fever.

five minutes later:
me: I might have to delete our conversation from FB. I don't need these people knowing our business.

Hierarchy of shame and prestige in the food tv world

1. Top Chef Masters
2. Iron Chef
3. Top Chef
4. The Next Iron Chef
5. Chopped
6. Hell's Kitchen
7. The Next Food Network Star
8. Throwdown with Bobby Flay
9. Cupcake Wars
10. Worst Cooks in America

Muse: 
I thought I told you the story.
she introduced herself to me at my sis's wedding but I was so tired
and just woken up from a short nap
so when she said “hi, my name is so and so,”
all I said was “that's cool.”
It hit me later that I was rude.

me: Did I tell you about the time Pa and I went to Ocean City at four in the morning? We discovered that 97.1 plays some bangin' music, none of that Delilah After Hours bs. “Tell me your life story” Delilah. Great, now I want to listen to Bryan Adams.

Steph: You did this to yourself.
me: Have you ever really loooooooooooved a womannnnn?

Steph: Oy vey. I have to say that “(Everything I do) I do It For You” tops it for me.

me: Kevin Costner starkers under that waterfall? Gross.
Steph: I liked it so much that I had to buy the sheet music for it and beg my teacher to let me learn it.

(11:34:48 PM):     youre all i ever wanted

(11:34:51 PM):     youre all i ever needed

(11:34:53 PM):     yeah

(11:34:56 PM):     so tell me what to do now

(11:34:57 PM):     cause

(11:34:59 PM):     ah

(11:35:00 PM):     ahh

(11:35:01 PM):     ahhhhhhh

(11:35:07 PM):     i want you back!

me: unPHOgettable
steph: ah jigga

Muse: I have never seen Fatal Attraction before. Man, this girl is jacked up.

Quando se fa l'ammore sotto 'a luna, come te vene 'capa e di: “I love you!?”

via Nelllyyyyyy

Saying farewell to my road dog

full flickr set

+ Springsteen dancefests. Sean trying to dance the robot.

+ multiple peach desserts and a big wedge of brie

+ four kinds of potato salad! I only liked the red potato one.

+ my Floating Lab Collective brethren!

+ Turner ranting about hipsters in society. Whatever, cuffed jeans. 

+ jealousy over Sean's sweet digs. I want river rock built into my floor!

+ pointedly not looking at Justin whenever something stupid or crazy has been uttered. They always catch us now. 

Turner: Bocce is the same as marbles but with bigger balls.

Sean: Man, I love having everyone over. 

Kiley: I love too! Wait, I mean I love seeing everyone. Are you laughing at me, vina? Don't laugh at me!

me: Don't forget key words in your sentences and I'll stop laughing.

Oh, DD. I'll miss you. Who's going to keep me updated on FLC meetings, projects we are doing, which countries have invited us to participate in whatever art festivals, the mechanics behind complicated audio-visual projections¹, and tell me who's who during bigwig art functions? Who else will get drunk and give me graphic design pep talks² at four in the morning? Whose abnormally pale and freckled body will I tease now? Who else will make a video of himself sleeping that makes me feel like a total creeper? Every time, man. Every time. Who's going to make the puppy dog face when I tell him I'm not traveling to Detroit (or wherever) and sleeping in an abandoned train station (Angela: I'm not trying to get raped by rats!)? Who's going to make me jealous when he tells me he tried Jose Andres's chef's menu and met the editor of Gourmet Magazine? Snap, you were the only one who didn't think I was crazy when I gushed about the tongue tacos from Centrico. I need more meat-eating foodie friends, stat! (I love you, my multiple vegetarian friends but damn — we can't talk about bacon!) Where will I get unconventional cookbooks? Who will teach me how to ride chopper bikes? Oh, no! How will Blake function without you? Who's going to ride the giant seesaw with him³?! Most importantly, who will be the resident fedora-wearer?

Happy trails, my road dog. Have fun dealing with the Minnesota nice.   Best wishes MFA-ing it up. (Here's where I realized that I don't even know his concentration. Experimental social art practices? Something like that. You know, Daniel Deanness.)

 ______________

¹ Hey vina, check this out: we're going to make a paper city and project video on it - like a smaller version of Wodiczko!

² vinaaaaaaaaaa, why don't you design more things for Floating Lab? Your work is sooo good; I tell everyone. You should design something. I'll always back you up. (Oh, man. I just made myself a little verklempt. This is the end of an era.)

³ I hate that damn thing. I trip over it constantly. Hello, lumber for new planters!

“Let's take them down one by one.”

Elephant Gun | Beirut

I really love how elephants look when they swim and the notion that prehistoric elephants were once aquatic animals.

This clip is fun to watch until it turns into a car advertisement.

Brett: Hey you. How was Neds?
me: Lord. I was hit on left and right.
Brett: Haha, high five!!!
me: No, no. This was Centreville. It was plaid but not in the good way.

vina's food photos via MMS = I cooked something delicious, ate it all, and you can't have any.

[via text]
Aaron: When are you going to teach me how to cook?
me: Well, I blogged that mushroom soup recipe so it's kind of like me teaching you.
Aaron: : |
me: :)

Logan: [photo of something with mashed potatoes]
me: [photo of picnic food]
Logan: Why do you always one-up me?
me: That's how I roll.

Mushroom soup and Murray v. Federer

Mushroom soup
Ingredients (serves 4):
- a good amount of butter.
- finely chopped shallots
- finely chopped onion (chilling your onions will reduce the sulfuric acid aka Cry City but will also lower the heat in your pot when you add them to the butter. It's up to you. )
- chopped mushrooms (I used trumpet, one portabella and some shiitake)
- brandy
- beef broth
- heavy cream
- fresh thyme
- kosher salt & cracked black pepper
- all-purpose flour

+ Melt butter in a large pot over med-high heat. Add onions and shallots; sweat until translucent.
+ Add mushrooms and thyme; saute until brown. I'd say five minutes or more depending on your heat.
+ Add a good splash of brandy, about four tablespoons. Stir for thirty seconds, mix in a Tbsp. of flour and let cook for a minute.
+ Add four cups of beef broth and let come to a boil. Add cream and reduce to a simmer. Season with s&p. I also blended with a stick blender but that's entirely optional.
+ Watch Rogers Cup. Weep over Federer's recent failures but cheer Andy Murray's first victory in thirteen title matches. The drought is over.

Tonight

+ baguette
+ mushroom soup (trumpet, shiitake, portabella)
+ smoked oysters
+ stinky fromage so runny you need a spoon
+ charcuterie
+ a nice Bordeaux
+ whatever entices me at the Redbox

Franz is wondering if the world is a dream or a dream the world.

Saturday

sounds like: Sam Cooke, Billy Squier, The Black Keys, She & Him, artsy fartsy (Hey! Is this an FLC meeting?!) conversations.

tastes like: scrambled eggs & hot sauce, grilled peaches with a butter/cinnamon/cognac sauce (originally skewered watermelon balls with mint leaves and sprinkle with salt and feta cheese but I've been on a peach kick these days.), whatever else they serve at DD's going away bbq. Meat and beer probably.

feels like: “We love everybody but we do as we please. When the weather's fine, we go fishing, or go swimming in the sea. We're always happy. Life's for living, yeah, that's our philosophy.”

smells like:  charcoal briquettes, melted butter and sugar, rosemary, DEET and sunblock.

photo from Blue Hour

Teenage girl #1: I go to a Christian school.
Teenage girl #2: Aren't you Jewish?
Teenage girl #1: Yeah, they love me. They think I'm the chosen one!

via Overheard in New York

Stop this crazy talk and leave right now and close the door

I want a SoA Green version of this video.

Steph: Let me tell you why my five-year old nephew is gangsta. He likes to eat French bread with olive oil for snacktime.

Motherfonter!

by Friends of Type

WTFont?
Go Font Ur Self

“There were three or four cakes at your baby shower back in New Zealand. That's probably why you like cake.”

Damn, called out.

I do like a nice cake.

Parsley stripes and hot peanuts

[via twitter]
me: @justin, @liz Remember that time I had to buy peanuts for meter change?
Liz: @me, @justin Remember that guy who said “It’s sexy when women say they want hot peanuts.”

Iron Shannon: Oh yeah! The dinner was at Colin’s! You should have been there! (and when I stopped listening due to scallop envy.)

+ crispy frieten and garlic cream. Do I even really need the falafel?
+ Passing on Solly’s. Here’s why:
a. No food. Do you even know who I am?
b. Solly's sounds like an apologetic Asian. I'm not going to take that place seriously.
+ The guy that looked like Andre the Giant. Anyone want a peanut?
+ The tall pretty boy with the plaid. Justin, that’s your friend.
+ Two minute foodie conversations complete with lemon wedge demonstrations. Lamb on lamb.
+ He wears his sunglasses at night. Enough said.
+ Justin texting about dressing hipster just for me. Aww!
+ Iron making the same face I made after seeing the “no photography” notice. 

Today I fell asleep (only for a minute or two!) sitting on a classroom floor surrounded by seven year olds watching Charlotte's Web. Shameless.

More later. It's sandwich¹ and "crash like I mean it"² time.

¹ Roast chicken, avocado, celery, romaine, mayo, and Dijon on whole grain. 
² Me passed out on the couch for a few hours with TCM or the History Channel playing.

Six hours of sleep in two days? Madness.

Tonight’s playlist: 

Carla Bruni - Quelqu’un m’a dit

Roy Orbinson - Shahdaroba

Sam Cooke - That’s Where It’s At

Santana - Samba Pa Ti (You can’t deny that Santana looks like he should be smashing watermelons.)

Seu Jorge - Changes 

Smokey Robinson & the Miracles - Ooo Baby Baby

Stan Getz & João Gilberto - Garota de Ipanema

Tomorrow: 
+ waking up around five to beat rush hour on 95 N. Booo. (In three hours!? Stop blogging, you asshole. You know you’re nitpicky about editing and proper quotation marks.)
+ visiting my former students who sent me this adorable MMS:

Side note,
- Missing French chef’s body found stuffed in freezer. Whaaaaat.
- Tonight, you belong to me.
- I hate fondant with a passion. I don’t care if your cake is prettier.
- I’d love to visit here, here, or here. I need to become friends with Bourdain, STAT.
- AVT 318 all over again but all in one go? Damn, where were you when I needed you?

That’s all. Goodnight.

Healthy food at the beach? Surely you jest.

+ Adriana's happy ocean dance
+ post-ocean naps. Amazing.
+ the sheer trashy goodness that is the Ocean City boardwalk
+ 97.1 plays some damn good 90s music at four in the morning.

Iron Shannon: Yeah, we're going to (random Jersey beach name here) this week. Beach time with the ladiessssss! We're staying at Colin's parents' house but he's not going!
me: Wait, what?
Iron Shannon: Yeah!! AND next week I'm going to be there with different people!

Justin: Who the hell names their band Wallpaper? I'm going to name mine Decorative Molding.
Liz: I want to be Sconce.

Tonight: Spirit Animal! Wallpaper! U Street Music Hall! Be there!

AND falafel afters!
You know you want to go.
Weeknight schmeeknight.

For Justin

kitty!

via A Cup of Jo

[in the middle of enjoying a nice special about George Washington]
Pa: It's like five in the morning, isn't it?
me: (quick glance at clock) oh, shit, it is.

five minutes later.

me: Oh, man. The birds are awake.

ten minutes later.

Pa: Man, I love Three's Company. It's the only thing on until MASH comes on. Then it's infomercials or go to sleep. Man, do I want porridge? Technically, it's breakfast.

two minutes later.

Pa: vina, you don't have to read it to me. I JUST said it. Yes! Another episode of Three's Company.

Oh-so helpful.

[via text]
me: hiii, text/email me the address when you get a chance.
Donn: It's 119th big-ass pink building on the beach side.

Hi! You guys want some cookies?

[discussing Girl Scout cookies via gchat]
Yathrib: They’re all dangerous and I love them all. It’s like someone made each type of cookie just for me. Those girls should be ashamed of themselves — how they post in front of the Walmart selling their crack addictive cookies.
me: taunting and tempting you
Yathrib: I know! I glare at them whenever I see ’em.
me: Shut up, you do not glare at girl scouts.
Yathrib: Dude, I give them the stink face like “No, I don’t want your crack cookies!!”
me: Well it’s good to know that in the future, should I have daughters and they become girl scouts, we can count on you. “Go ask Auntie Thribby!”
Yathrib:  lol! That’s friggin' evil!!!
me: “Auntie Thribby, do you want to buy some cookies?”
Yathrib:  I’ll end up buying 3 of each kind of cookie
me:  Yesssssss, I’ll become troop leader for sure.



Stephanie: I had no idea she had such a cookie problem. Intervention! Intervention!

Traffic, traffic lookin' fo my chapstick, feelin' kinda car sick, there's a Ford Maverick.

According to Swoon's dream dictionary, “to drive through traffic successfully forecasts an easement of family difficulties, but a traffic jam predicts obstacles that will require long and patient effort to overcome.”

I have dreamt both in the past two days. I don't really know of any family difficulties and I'm especially not looking forward to any obstacles that require long and patience effort to overcome. 

+ There are two movie references in this post. Ten points if you guess them!

Look at you, ain't ye great with your smooth complexions and your social calendars, dancing around on your working legs! You make me sick!

Yay, fairy tale bedtime stories!
I love how the old fairy has a walker.

Peach crisp and French do-gooders

Ingredients (serves two)
2 ripe peaches, sliced or diced
4 (ok ok, maybe 6) Tbsp melted butter
1/2 c. plus 1 Tbsp all purpose flour
1/2 c. rolled oats
sugar
brandy
honey (we used about 2 Tbsp. of Tupelo)
cinnamon
nutmeg

+ Toss peaches with brandy, honey, sugar and cinnamon to taste. Let macerate for at least twenty minutes. I like that word, macerate.
+ Combine melted butter, flour, oats, and one tsp. cinnamon.
+ Place peaches in whatever baking dish you want to use. Toss with the tablespoon of flour. Cover with the flour-oats mixture. Flour mixture will not perfectly cover the peaches (unless you are OCD then by all means cover away).
+ Bake in a 325 degree oven until fruit is bubbling and crisp is golden brown.
+ Serve warm with vanilla ice cream. Garnish with fresh mint and freshly-grated nutmeg. Watch Amélie as you dig into the gooey fruity goodness. Nap a little bit.

Plaid shirts and cheddar biscuits

table shot from this night

“As your leader, I encourage you from time to time, and always in a respectful manner, to question my logic. If you're unconvinced that a particular plan of action I've decided is the wisest, tell me so, but allow me to convince you and I promise you right here and now, no subject will ever be taboo. Except, of course, the subject that was just under discussion. The price you pay for bringing up either my Chinese or American heritage as a negative is... I collect your fucking head. Just like this fucker here. Now, if any of you sons of bitches got anything else to say, now's the fucking time!”

For dinner I had roasted eggplant and broccoli seasoned with sea salt, cracked black pepper, and raspberry white balsamic vinegar. It was duh-lish-us.

Steph: Omg you can design shoes on Zazzle. I'm so making a pair!!
me: For a second I was sad that I can't click “like” for a text.

According to Paul McCartney, this song is about drugs. Man, here I was all thinking it was another happy-go-lucky love song. Paul, why you do me wrong like that?

Steph: Man, my coworker gave me a piece of cake today. I'm so happy.
me: hahah, I love cake!
Steph: So I'm pretty excited about my lunch. I packed a salad with lettuce, spinach, arugula, fresh corn, avocado and tomato. And then I made a sandwich just in case. And then I have cut up nectarines and strawberries. Omg and now CAKE. Fit for a KING sonnnn. Too bad they frown upon champagne at work.
me: Shoot, I think you mean “ginger ale.”

Maybe the absence of signs is a sign

I love this movie!
I would watch it right now if I knew where my copy was.
Ah, man.

Tonight

+ oyster sauce/sweet soy-glazed short ribs
+ broccoli, zucchini, and eggplant tempura
+ brown rice
+ cold shrimp with homemade cocktail sauce and dill aioli (which doesn't match the menu at all but sounded good)

This was almost:
+ grilled short ribs with a lemon gremolata
+ baked ratatouille (Oh, how I love baked eggplant)
+ shrimp scampi

Pa likes basketball, I like water.

Not much has changed except for the part about Pa liking basketballs.

When I can't contain it, I let it out. When I can't explain it, I say it louder.

He gon' marry some girl named Bertha.

I know it's too early to say this but this clip has sort of made my day.

Logan: When you sent me that photo of a burger the other day I was on a 90 mile bike ride.

Nat: I refuse to buy a white shirt for that meeting. I'm a big girl, man! Ain't tryin' to look like a marshmallow!

Pa: Why do we get fucked over so much?
me: I KNOW! We're nice people!

Pa: (Natalie has just left) So, you wanna watch a movie now?
me: No! It's four AM, dude.
Pa: Oh, yeah.

“The only people for me are the mad ones,
the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,
mad to be saved,
desirous of everything at the same time,
the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing,
but burn,
burn,
burn,
like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars
and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop
and everybody goes “Awww!”

Jack Kerouac

“I like yo' wiggly walk, yeah. And I like yo' way a'talkin'. And you look neat the way you look but you ain't nothin' if you can't cook.”

Home Cookin' | Junior Walker and the All Stars

+ buttermilk fried chicken
+ sautéed sweet corn
+ smashed red potatoes
+ jalapeño cheddar biscuits
+ peach/blackberry cobbler

Three cheers for dreaming about fried chicken (that doesn't make me sound like a glutton at all) and wanting to cook Southern food now.

me: What the hell is a puggle?
Pa: A pug and a muggle?

me: So, is it a pug and a poodle?
Steph: I think it's just a pug and a beagle.
me: ohhhhh. The “uggle” part makes more sense then.

Sad French songs make me happy!

Boredom/madness/crazy-awesome fun is figuring out the track titles for untitled French oldies in your iTunes at three thirty in the morning when your French skillz are spotty at best. Kudos to me for remembering these lyrics from my childhood. Oh yeah, we sang French songs as children. And, despite most of the lyrics being about heartache and unrequited love, I am having the best time belting them out as I continue the shower/sleep procrastination. Ginnie, you know what I'm talking about.





also, 
+ La Femme de Mon Ami - a song about being in love with someone's wife, hahaha!
+ Tous les garçons et les filles - It's Françoise Hardy, people! You know you like her bangs.
+ L'amour c'est pour rien -  L'amour, c'est l'esperance, sans raison et sans loi. Mmhmm. 
+ Rien qu'une larme dans tes yeux - It took me over ten minutes to figure out what this mofo was saying. He said sourire (smile), I heard souris (mice). "Why the hell is he singing about mice?"
+ Paris s'allume - This one took me longer than it did for the previous song. I dislike this song now. The linked video is not the same version I have since it is just the instrumental. Seriously, dislike all around.