Tesla was born "at the stroke of midnight" with lightning striking
during a summer storm. He was born to a Serbian family in Smiljan near
Gospić, Lika, (the Military Frontier of Austria-Hungary, now in
Croatia). The midwife commented, "He'll be a child of the storm," to
which his mother replied, "No, of light." Tesla was baptized in the Old
Slavonic Church rite. His Baptism Certificate reports that he was born
on June 28 (Julian calendar; July 10 in the Gregorian calendar) 1856
The other night, after a long, perfectly lovely day of wine, music, giggles, and other peoples' animals, my man friend and I were in bed, smack dab in the middle of a very pleasant boner-trading session, when he looks at me and says, with a charming grin on his face: "Guess who we're listening to right now," referring to the music in the background, which by that point had become a warm swirl of random notes and frequencies licking softly at my eardrums, and resonating in other more uh... squishy parts of my body. So I took a moment to listen and considered it. The voice didn't sound familiar at all, but I was enjoying the haunting melodies and creepy back-up children's choir.
"Hmm... I'm really not sure," I said.
"...Ryan Gosling! Ha ha!"
"... yeah right."
Oh, The Gos (our lady-killing patron saint of James North? http://hamiltonryangosling.tumblr.com - lest we forget). He always seems to find a way into people's pants one way or another, doesn't he? And that night, sweaty and naked and none the wiser... he found his way into mine. I guess that's what happens when you're a smooth operator: girls who wouldn't look twice at you seem to find themselves unwittingly victims of your deceitful charms.
Some girls at that point would have probably closed their eyes and silently swooned, maybe imagining some scene from The Notebook, privately wishing our titular Romeo in place of their partner. Instead, I giggled at the absurdity of it all, trying to shoo Ryan Gosling's smarmy, brooding badger face out of my mind and get back to the (much handsomer) one in front of me.
As hilarious as it was (and as dirty and violated as I felt), his music is, I loathe to say... actually pretty fucking amazing and lovely! If you love Timber Timbre as much as I do, you'll love this.
Dead Man's Bones - "My Body's A Zombie For You":
...But that doesn't mean I want him smarming his way into my panties. Goddamnit, you don't own every girl's vagina, Gosling! You and your perfectly sexy bedroom music, why I oughta... I f*cking hate you.
By the way, a gosling is a baby goose. That's right. A baby goose. Not so sexy now, is it? Unless you put a wind-swept dirty blonde wig on it and give it a v-neck t-shirt.
(For the record, Lars and the Real Girl is a really, really amazing movie. Okay?)
