<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908</id><updated>2012-01-30T08:14:20.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MIND OF JAYMOZ</title><subtitle type='html'>I can only live my life, as I know how to live it. there is no clocking out, my life requires no vacation is a 24-7 job for 365 days and no sick days....MORRISSEY has to sing everyday and DANIELLE has to appear in all dreams. So why would I even complain.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>91</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7835793410429049223</id><published>2009-10-11T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T15:59:07.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#92</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/StJirLk2XFI/AAAAAAAAAg0/WBzX2Dm1Z_w/s1600-h/e87iba.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391480197897149522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/StJirLk2XFI/AAAAAAAAAg0/WBzX2Dm1Z_w/s400/e87iba.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Swords compiles 18 select songs released as b-sides of Morrissey’s 13 hit singles from his last four albums, capping what is undoubtedly his most productive year since his solo career began in 1988.&lt;br /&gt;Morrissey is an artist who has always ensured his b-sides are of as outstanding quality as his singles and album tracks, and Swords features some of his finest material.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;His music is always powerful and adventurous, while the richness and expression of Morrissey’s voice has made him one of the greats in our eyes. Unmatched style and wit this man has.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pick 2 songs, which is not an easy task given the quality of his music where every track is so damn good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWORDS TRACKLIST&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Looking Man About Town&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don’t Make Fun Of Daddy’s Voice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If You Don’t Like Me, Don’t Look At Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ganglord&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Dearest Love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Never-Played Symphonies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sweetie-Pie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christian Dior&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shame Is The Name&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Munich Air Disaster 1958&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Knew I Was Next&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It’s Hard To Walk Tall When You’re Small&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teenage Dad On His Estate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Children In Pieces&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday Mourning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Life Is A Succession Of People Saying Goodbye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drive-In Saturday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because Of My Poor Education&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;MORRISSEY – CHRISTIAN DIOR&lt;br /&gt;MORRISSEY – MY DEAREST LOVE &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. I found love with someone that has the same love for MORRISSEY  as me........life is so good!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7835793410429049223?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7835793410429049223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7835793410429049223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#92'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/StJirLk2XFI/AAAAAAAAAg0/WBzX2Dm1Z_w/s72-c/e87iba.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-9131762257400838375</id><published>2009-08-30T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T16:22:14.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#91</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SpsJnfAqCZI/AAAAAAAAAgs/HNZwhgtlUeQ/s1600-h/moz+arizona+pic+5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375901154140621202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SpsJnfAqCZI/AAAAAAAAAgs/HNZwhgtlUeQ/s400/moz+arizona+pic+5.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;MORRISSEY, in ARIZONA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This concert went down well. Morrissey was in excellent spirits, he was playful and chatty. The band was flawless. The audience was receptive, but rather lethargic. It must be said that although it wasn't violent, security insisted on everyone staying in their seats, something which may have affected the atmosphere. A handful of fans still managed to make it on stage, particularly during the encore.&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly Morrissey dropped the live staple "First Of The Gang To Die" from the setlist, and replaced it with "Panic".&lt;br /&gt;As he entered stage Morrissey greeted the audience by saying "This is a bad experiment gone horribly wrong!". In "Disappointed" it sounded like he changed a line to "Your friends and their phones would rather die than have to sleep with you". When he introduced his musicians Jesse was cheered louder and longer than his bandmates, which prompted Morrissey to say something to the effect of "it shouldn't be that loud." Then when came his own turn he introduced himself with the words "...and then there's big fat me."&lt;br /&gt;As was tradition at the time Morrissey also asked his most dedicated fan Julia as well as a few others in the front rows how they were. One fan said he was okay but that his car had broken down earlier, to which Morrissey replied "life happens..." Over the opening notes of "The National Front Disco" he acknowledged the audience's cheers by saying "Well thats very very civil of you, thank you..." At some point he made a comment to the effect of "...think of this when you are queueing outside of Whataburger..." Jesse accidentally dropped his cymbal at the beginning of "At Last I Am Born". Morrissey changed a line in that song to "Look at me now from fat little child to spectral hand to Claude Brasseur Oh-who the hell is Claude Brasseur?".&lt;br /&gt;Following new composition "All You Need Is Me" Morrissey stated "I could be very wrong..." When he returned to the stage for the encore he said "Thank you punk rockers", bowed alongside his musicians, then asked the crowd "Can you take it?". Before the final song he simply said "And before you all run away, one final message..." That final song was "You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side" and as had become tradition Morrissey sang the whole first verse in the first person. However he slightly extended a line in there to "with the world's fate resting on my shoulders I think I'm gonne need someone on my side". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-9131762257400838375?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/9131762257400838375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/9131762257400838375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_30.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#91'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SpsJnfAqCZI/AAAAAAAAAgs/HNZwhgtlUeQ/s72-c/moz+arizona+pic+5.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-978009343839230688</id><published>2009-08-09T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T10:56:58.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#90</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn8MfRDtFDI/AAAAAAAAAgk/IXjdt7vw1n4/s1600-h/DSC_0001-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368023012143338546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn8MfRDtFDI/AAAAAAAAAgk/IXjdt7vw1n4/s400/DSC_0001-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Swallow On My Neck” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reputably the chorus of “he drew a swallow on my neck and more I will not say...” refers not to an actual bird tattoo (which has Nazi/SS soldier overtones) but, argues many, to a hickey. Most likely written about the onset of a relationship between Morrissey and his former “personal assistant” Jake Walters around ‘94, the song is undoubtedly a love song, and one of Morrissey’s best. Buried as the second B-side on the “Sunny” single, the song was later given another shot on the underrated My Early Burglary Years compilation in ‘98..........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just one of the best a true work of art. Morrissey once again takes my heart with his lyrics as he has done to so many.......Give Morrissey a story and he'll give you the answer in a song..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moz﻿ b-sides are very odd. Some are just so spectacular, that you wonder why the song isn't on the album. Others like Journalist who lie are silly jingles or a jam session. Ringleader had some great b-sides, same with Quarry as well. the b sides are like hidden﻿ treasures.............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-978009343839230688?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/978009343839230688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/978009343839230688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_09.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#90'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn8MfRDtFDI/AAAAAAAAAgk/IXjdt7vw1n4/s72-c/DSC_0001-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6750878619193285481</id><published>2009-08-08T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T09:45:05.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I AM THE UGLIEST MAN - THAT CAME VERY CLOSE TO YOUR SIDE.....#89</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn2re_PTj_I/AAAAAAAAAgc/OuUNFnvNpWA/s1600-h/sadness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 251px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367634879755554802" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn2re_PTj_I/AAAAAAAAAgc/OuUNFnvNpWA/s400/sadness.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I sleep With that picture of you framed beside my bed Oh, I know it's childish - low life and it's silly to you But I think it's you in my room, every time by the bed (...yes, I know and I can tell you it was silly...) The strange Pills remind me of your sleeping Pills. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This may sound stupid to you but I can still pin point the &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;love at first site&lt;/span&gt; I can still detail every move that "&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;SUNDAY" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;made by you. Everything you wore and said, how you stood that day. As we spent the day. A normal day to you worth a million to me. After that day I did become the world's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;UGLIEST &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;man..&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn2rV90tZjI/AAAAAAAAAgU/tK4SyYDuSk8/s1600-h/morrissey_live_tel_aviv4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367634724756743730" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn2rV90tZjI/AAAAAAAAAgU/tK4SyYDuSk8/s400/morrissey_live_tel_aviv4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...Because I new it was over the minute I left..... Even when I thought I had a chance I knew I didn't.............. But as I spent the last second I forgot the world was still spinning and that there was air in my lungs, Pain was nowhere to be fund...Everything special in my life came in that second..... Morrissey in my car singing reality to me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;GOODBYE FOREVER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;. A half life disappeared With every hand waves me on (secretly wishing me gone) I sleep with women to kill the pain &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;GOD, HOW I HATE SEX!&lt;/span&gt;...........Thank you Morrissey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6750878619193285481?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6750878619193285481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6750878619193285481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-am-ugliest-man-that-came-very-close.html' title='I AM THE UGLIEST MAN - THAT CAME VERY CLOSE TO YOUR SIDE.....#89'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sn2re_PTj_I/AAAAAAAAAgc/OuUNFnvNpWA/s72-c/sadness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4771010940662471125</id><published>2009-08-07T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T14:52:13.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I DREAMT ABOUT YOU LAST NIGHT......#88</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snyh18C4PlI/AAAAAAAAAgE/YPoFw00UF0U/s1600-h/00itdeffffd-72.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367342803942129234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snyh18C4PlI/AAAAAAAAAgE/YPoFw00UF0U/s400/00itdeffffd-72.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Morrissey I love this virtual world where you can invite to your virtual party, to celebrate the first year of Live on my mind, the most important artist to have appeared on the English scene after the Beatles: Morrissey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“A jumped up pantry boy&lt;br /&gt;Who never knew his place&lt;br /&gt;He said&lt;br /&gt;“return the ring”&lt;br /&gt;He knows so much about these things&lt;br /&gt;He knows so much about these things&lt;br /&gt;I would go out tonight&lt;br /&gt;But I haven’t got a stitch to wear&lt;br /&gt;This man said “It’s gruesome that someone so handsome should care”&lt;br /&gt;Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man …Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man …”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367342269385236674" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnyhW0qlYMI/AAAAAAAAAf8/wKNr5WvyNGM/s400/moz20_m.jpg" /&gt;[The Charming Man – The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indie philosophy linked a community that socially identifies around a music for more than 20 years. As Wendy Fonarow describes in her wonderful book “Empire of Dirt – The Aesthetics and Rituals of British Indie Music” it is a proper british phenomenon, radicate and influencing society beyond music and up to fashion, design and journalism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Existence is only a game&lt;br /&gt;And I’m, Not sorry for, For the things I’ve done&lt;br /&gt;And I’m, Not looking for, Just anyone&lt;br /&gt;And I’m, Not sorry for, For the things I’ve said&lt;br /&gt;There’s a wild man in my head, There’s a wild man In my head”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 246px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367342027407789442" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnyhIvOqjYI/AAAAAAAAAf0/38NPwoNW7N4/s400/moz19_m.jpg" /&gt;[I’m Not Sorry – Morrissey]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morrissey since he appeared on Top of the Pop with a bunch of gladioli singing This Charming Man obtained a godlike status within UK. As any God, he speaks his Word and the words he uses are always so effective to storm debates that question the inner nature of being British. A country split between worshippers and people who cannot stand him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking&lt;br /&gt;When I said I’d like to smash every tooth&lt;br /&gt;In your head&lt;br /&gt;Oh … sweetness, sweetness, I was only joking&lt;br /&gt;When I said by rights you should be&lt;br /&gt;Bludgeoned in your bed&lt;br /&gt;And now I know how Joan of Arc felt&lt;br /&gt;Now I know how Joan of Arc felt&lt;br /&gt;As the flames rose to her roman nose&lt;br /&gt;And her Walkman started to melt&lt;br /&gt;Bigmouth strikes again&lt;br /&gt;And I’ve got no right to take my place&lt;br /&gt;With the Human race” &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 281px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367341175881759442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnygXLDCetI/AAAAAAAAAfk/Rw15WCsuIgo/s400/moz16_m.jpg" /&gt;[Bigmouth Strikes Again – The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He synthesized in 4 lines the indie manifesto. Before Panic we were looking for a holy grail, after we found it. A music about emotions, against technique and show-off, a music that speaks about us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Burn down the disco&lt;br /&gt;Hang the blessed DJ&lt;br /&gt;Because the music that they constantly play&lt;br /&gt;It says nothing to me about my life”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 260px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367340745328626994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snyf-HHLDTI/AAAAAAAAAfc/-tB_nNd2teQ/s400/moz15_m.jpg" /&gt;[Panic - The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have our clubs and our nights, we are beautifully lonely in our own depressions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Take me out tonight&lt;br /&gt;Where there’s music and there’s people&lt;br /&gt;And they’re young and alive&lt;br /&gt;Driving in your car&lt;br /&gt;I never never want to go home&lt;br /&gt;Because I haven’t got one&lt;br /&gt;Anymore&lt;br /&gt;And if a double-decker bus&lt;br /&gt;Crashes into us&lt;br /&gt;To die by your side&lt;br /&gt;Is such a heavenly way to die&lt;br /&gt;And if a ten-ton truck&lt;br /&gt;Kills the both of us&lt;br /&gt;To die by your sideWell, the pleasure – the privilege is mine&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, there is a light and it never goes out” &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367339630076179618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snye9MeRNKI/AAAAAAAAAfM/hbwAjVcOuqk/s400/moz13_m.jpg" /&gt;[There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There’s a club, if you’d like to go&lt;br /&gt;You could meet somebody who really loves you&lt;br /&gt;So you go, and you stand on your own&lt;br /&gt;And you leave on your own&lt;br /&gt;And you go home, and you cry&lt;br /&gt;And you want to die&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;You shut your mouth&lt;br /&gt;How can you say?&lt;br /&gt;I go about things the wrong way?&lt;br /&gt;I am human and I need to be loved&lt;br /&gt;Just like everybody else does”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367339366366713618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snyet2FCFxI/AAAAAAAAAfE/yEjeDBCkX0k/s400/moz12_m.jpg" /&gt;[How Soon is Now? - The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know who was the target when wrote Get Off the Stage song, but is reinforcing the point. The addressee must have stopped playing, since authenticity and credibility, the two key features of any independent artist (cit. Wendy Fonarow’s book again) are missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, you silly old man&lt;br /&gt;You silly old man&lt;br /&gt;You’re making a fool of yourself&lt;br /&gt;So get off the stage&lt;br /&gt;You silly old man&lt;br /&gt;In your misguided trousers&lt;br /&gt;With your mascara and your Fender guitar&lt;br /&gt;And you think you can arouse us?&lt;br /&gt;But the song that you just sang&lt;br /&gt;It sounds exactly like the last one&lt;br /&gt;And the next one&lt;br /&gt;I bet you it will sound&lt;br /&gt;Like this one”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367338966941629458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnyeWmGq_BI/AAAAAAAAAe8/iC67cgwWaPQ/s400/moz11_m.jpg" /&gt;[Get Off The Stage - Morrissey]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a never-ending struggle with England and the rest of the world, a sense of impatience and discomfort about places is recurring in the lyrics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh ! Take me back to dear old Blighty,Put me on the train for London Town,Take me anywhere,Drop me anywhere,Liverpool, Leeds or Birmingham&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Farewell to this land’s cheerless marshes&lt;br /&gt;Hemmed in like a boar between arches&lt;br /&gt;Her very Lowness with a head in a sling&lt;br /&gt;I’m truly sorry – but it sounds like a wonderful thing&lt;br /&gt;I said Charles, don’t you ever crave&lt;br /&gt;To appear on the front of the Daily Mail&lt;br /&gt;Dressed in your Mother’s bridal veil ?&lt;br /&gt;Oh …And so, I checked all the registered historical facts&lt;br /&gt;And I was shocked into shame to discover&lt;br /&gt;How I’m the 18th pale descendant&lt;br /&gt;Of some old queen or other&lt;br /&gt;Oh, has the world changed, or have I changed ?Oh has the world changed, or have I changed ?&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Past the Pub who saps your body&lt;br /&gt;And the church who’ll snatch your money&lt;br /&gt;The Queen is dead, boys&lt;br /&gt;And it’s so lonely on a limb&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Life is very long, when you’re lonely”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367338575855676466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snyd_1Mg7DI/AAAAAAAAAe0/_JdruTrLb7w/s400/moz10_m.jpg" /&gt;[The Queen is Dead – The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years living in LA and is America’s turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“America your head’s too big, Because America, Your belly is too big.&lt;br /&gt;And I love you, I just wish you’d stay where you belong&lt;br /&gt;In America, The land of the free, they said, And of opportunity, In a just and a truthful way.&lt;br /&gt;But where the president, is never black, female or gay, and until that day,you’ve got nothing to say to me, to help me believe&lt;br /&gt;In America, it brought you the hamburger. Well America you know where, you can shove your hamburger.&lt;br /&gt;And don’t you wonder, why in Estonia they say, hey you, you big fat pig&lt;br /&gt;Steely blue eyes with no love in them, scan the World,&lt;br /&gt;And a humourless smile, with no warmth within, greets the world.&lt;br /&gt;And I, I have got nothing, to offer you&lt;br /&gt;No-no-no-no-no, just this heart deep and true, which you say you don’t need” &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 272px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367337976965080594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snydc-J3phI/AAAAAAAAAes/QhGHA1ZkeL8/s400/moz8_m.jpg" /&gt;[America is not the World – Morrissey]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A farewell to California settled him in Rome, Rome? why Rome? Something I’d love to know, Is any hint hidden here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pasolini is me‘Accattone’ you’ll beI entered nothing and nothing entered me‘Til you came with the keyAnd you did your best but&lt;br /&gt;As I live and breathe&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;Yes I walk around somehow&lt;br /&gt;But you have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;Piazza Cavour, what’s my life for?&lt;br /&gt;Visconti is me&lt;br /&gt;Magnani you’ll never be&lt;br /&gt;I entered nothing and nothing entered me‘Til you came with the keyAnd you did your best but&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;And there is no point saying this again&lt;br /&gt;there is no point saying this again&lt;br /&gt;But I forgive you, I forgive you&lt;br /&gt;Always I do forgive you.”&lt;br /&gt;[You have Killed Me – Morrissey]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mancunian fans petitioned to close any butcher and burger shop if he moved back to his neighborood, he opted out for the Eternal city&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“…and the flesh you so fancifully fry&lt;br /&gt;Is not succulent, tasty or kind&lt;br /&gt;Its death for no reason&lt;br /&gt;And death for no reason is murder&lt;br /&gt;And the calf that you carve with a smile&lt;br /&gt;Is murder&lt;br /&gt;And the turkey you festively slice&lt;br /&gt;Is murder&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how animals die ?&lt;br /&gt;Kitchen aromas arent very homely&lt;br /&gt;Its not comforting, cheery or kind&lt;br /&gt;Its sizzling blood and the unholy stench of murder&lt;br /&gt;Its not natural, normal or kind&lt;br /&gt;The flesh you so fancifully fry&lt;br /&gt;The meat in your mouth&lt;br /&gt;As you savour the flavour of murder”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367336991368601122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnycjmhW3iI/AAAAAAAAAek/2yCOZ4Q0wlo/s400/moz7_m.jpg" /&gt;[Meat is Murder - The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big chapter. Beef eaters aren’t Moz only target, he creates much more of a storm when he talks about his country. The ambiguous facets encountered in his lyrics, reinforced in interviews, have created several discussions that reached serious questions about his and English intolerance today. I can’t stand for him or against, because I can’t read the inner side of such lyrics, English is a tricky language when you are not English…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No no no&lt;br /&gt;he does not want to depress you&lt;br /&gt;oh no no no no no&lt;br /&gt;he only wants to impress you&lt;br /&gt;Bengali in platforms&lt;br /&gt;he only wants to embrace your cultureand to be your friend forever&lt;br /&gt;Bengali, Bengalioh shelve your Western plansand understand that life is hard enough when you belong here&lt;br /&gt;A silver-studded rim that glistensand an ankle-star that…blinds mea lemon sole so very highwhich only reminds me, to tell you&lt;br /&gt;so I break the news gently&lt;br /&gt;I break the news to you gently“Shelve your plans”Bengali, Bengaliits the touchy march of timethat blinds youdon’t blame medon’t hate me&lt;br /&gt;just because I’m the one to tell you&lt;br /&gt;that life is hard enough when you belong here&lt;br /&gt;life is hard enough when you belong here&lt;br /&gt;shelve your western plans&lt;br /&gt;life is hard enough when you belong here”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 246px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367336180417973538" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snyb0ZfqTSI/AAAAAAAAAec/uz9Wf_Tf0LE/s400/moz4_m.jpg" /&gt;[Bengali in Platform – Morrissey]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one that didn’t seem (to me) to leave much space to interpretation from the title to the chorus, apparently does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“David, the wind blows&lt;br /&gt;The wind blows …Bits of your life awayYour friends all say …“Where is our boy ? Oh, we’ve lost our boy”But they should know&lt;br /&gt;Where you’ve gone&lt;br /&gt;Because again and again you’ve explained that&lt;br /&gt;You’re going to …&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you’re going to …Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;England for the English !England for the English !&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;National, ah …To the National ..There’s a country; you don’t live there&lt;br /&gt;But one day you would like to&lt;br /&gt;And if you show them what you’re made of&lt;br /&gt;Oh, then you might do …&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;NationalTo the National&lt;br /&gt;To the National Front Disco&lt;br /&gt;Because you want the day to come sooner&lt;br /&gt;You want the day to come sooner&lt;br /&gt;When you’ve settled the score”&lt;br /&gt;[National Front Disco - Morrissey]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To reignite the question a fight caught him, NME, the journalist Tom Jonze, the national press and some solicitors busy for weeks about a year ago…all was around an interview with few sentences “The gates of England are flooded. The country’s been thrown away”. He denied and accused to be manipulated by NME, one thing is for sure, his thought about the music press was clear even eighteen year before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Journalists who lie&lt;br /&gt;Stealing the money&lt;br /&gt;Prospering with spite&lt;br /&gt;Hate-In-A-Hurry&lt;br /&gt;They’re only trying to make their name&lt;br /&gt;By spreading Biz myth-lies&lt;br /&gt;About the ones who’ve made their name&lt;br /&gt;Stick in the knife&lt;br /&gt;Stick in the knife&lt;br /&gt;Journalists who lie&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, it happens&lt;br /&gt;Praise, then crucifyJust follow this pattern&lt;br /&gt;And see how :&lt;br /&gt;They’re only trying to make their name&lt;br /&gt;By spreading sickening lies&lt;br /&gt;About the ones who’ve made their name&lt;br /&gt;Mate, give us the knife&lt;br /&gt;Give us the knife&lt;br /&gt;Journalists who lie&lt;br /&gt;So happy in malice&lt;br /&gt;Rock star – out of line&lt;br /&gt;So happy in maliceOh …&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;They’re only trying to make their name&lt;br /&gt;With unprovable lies&lt;br /&gt;About the ones&lt;br /&gt;Who’ve made their name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the black hole&lt;br /&gt;Of your soul&lt;br /&gt;Still bargaining away the Truth&lt;br /&gt;So easily&lt;br /&gt;Truth&lt;br /&gt;Journalists who lie&lt;br /&gt;Stealing the money&lt;br /&gt;Prospering with spite&lt;br /&gt;And Hate-In-A-Hurry&lt;br /&gt;Journalists who lie&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, it happens&lt;br /&gt;Praise, then crucify&lt;br /&gt;Just follow this pattern&lt;br /&gt;Journalists who lie&lt;br /&gt;So sick and belaboured&lt;br /&gt;They want to be favoured&lt;br /&gt;They only want to be favoured”&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 401px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367335737374971858" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnybanB-l9I/AAAAAAAAAeU/6MVrdti8-OE/s400/moz2_m.jpg" /&gt; [Journalists who Lie – Morrissey]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Journalists are in good company, the record industry was already an enemy at the times of The Smiths&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“At the record company meeting&lt;br /&gt;On their hands – a dead star&lt;br /&gt;And oh, the plans they weave&lt;br /&gt;And oh, the sickening greed&lt;br /&gt;At the record company party&lt;br /&gt;On their hands – a dead star&lt;br /&gt;The sycophantic slags all say :“I knew him first, and I knew him well”&lt;br /&gt;Re-issue ! Re-package ! Re-package !Re-evaluate the songs&lt;br /&gt;Double-pack with a photograph&lt;br /&gt;Extra Track (and a tacky badge)&lt;br /&gt;A-list, playlist“Please them , please them !”“Please them !”(sadly, THIS was your life)&lt;br /&gt;But you could have said no&lt;br /&gt;If you’d wanted to&lt;br /&gt;You could have said no&lt;br /&gt;If you’d wanted to&lt;br /&gt;BPI, MTV, BBC&lt;br /&gt;“Please them ! Please them !”(sadly this was your life)&lt;br /&gt;But you could have said no&lt;br /&gt;If you’d wanted to&lt;br /&gt;You could have walked away…Couldn’t you ?&lt;br /&gt;I touched you at the soundcheck&lt;br /&gt;You had no real way of knowing&lt;br /&gt;In my heart I begged “Take me with you …I don’t care where you’re going…”&lt;br /&gt;But to you I was faceless&lt;br /&gt;I was fawning, I was boring&lt;br /&gt;Just a child from those ugly new houses&lt;br /&gt;Who could never begin to know&lt;br /&gt;Who could never really know&lt;br /&gt;Oh …&lt;br /&gt;Best of ! Most of !Satiate the need&lt;br /&gt;Slip them into different sleeves !Buy both, and feel deceived&lt;br /&gt;Climber – new entry, re-entry&lt;br /&gt;World tour ! (”media whore”)“Please the Press in Belgium !”(THIS was your life…)&lt;br /&gt;And when it fails to recoup ?&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe :You just haven’t earned it yet, baby&lt;br /&gt;I walked a pace behind you at the soundcheck&lt;br /&gt;You’re just the same as I am&lt;br /&gt;What makes most people feel happy&lt;br /&gt;Leads us headlong into harm&lt;br /&gt;So, in my bedroom in those ‘ugly new houses’I danced my legs down to the knees&lt;br /&gt;But me and my ‘true love’Will never meet again …&lt;br /&gt;At the record company meeting&lt;br /&gt;On their hands – at last ! – a dead star !But they can never taint you in my eyes&lt;br /&gt;No, they can never touch you now&lt;br /&gt;No, they cannot hurt you, my darling&lt;br /&gt;They cannot touch you now&lt;br /&gt;But me and my ‘true love’Will never meet again”&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 253px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367335500821575346" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnybM1zQNrI/AAAAAAAAAeM/W9BxVLoq9lU/s400/moz1_m.jpg" /&gt;[Paint a Vulgar Picture – The Smiths]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…which would be a bit more believable if an umpteenth greatest hits album wasn’t out with its many editions and packagings available.&lt;br /&gt;There is no other artist as Morrissey in UK and probably around the world, either you love or detest him, one thing he can claim, England and not only his music would have been different today if he hadn’t appeared.&lt;br /&gt;In the “difficult to believe” case you don’t know Morrissey's songs you can listen some short sample on his myspace browse his website or find thousands of performances on [youtube].&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4771010940662471125?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4771010940662471125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4771010940662471125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-dreamt-about-you-last-night.html' title='I DREAMT ABOUT YOU LAST NIGHT......#88'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Snyh18C4PlI/AAAAAAAAAgE/YPoFw00UF0U/s72-c/00itdeffffd-72.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1394183547245409943</id><published>2009-08-02T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T18:03:55.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#87</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnYz4p3yM7I/AAAAAAAAAeE/HzLSTpn2B3M/s1600-h/morrissey_tab_02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365533054464046002" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnYz4p3yM7I/AAAAAAAAAeE/HzLSTpn2B3M/s400/morrissey_tab_02.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 1px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 1px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365531045324126466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnYyDtPf-QI/AAAAAAAAAd0/HbrJz6CbEPQ/s400/spaceball.gif" /&gt;“Late Night, Maudlin Street”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No more proof is needed that Morrissey is the Queen of Bedsit Poetics than this nearly eight minute long tale of nostalgia and continual regret. Eschewing any sort of rhyme scheme or steady melody somewhat ironically makes the song’s epicness bearable. As the song’s title suggests, Morrissey seems to be attempting the obviously impossible task of ridding himself of all his youthful disappointments in one song. The instrumentation is adequately slight and subdued allowing Morrissey’s sorrow penetrate through. The song’s infrequent title dropping may be because the song is too overwhelming for even the most casual fans. I can’t end without mentioned how many quintessentially classic Morrissey lyrics are present in this one song: “Love at first sight / It may sound trite / But it's true, you know”; “Women only like me for my mind...”; “You without clothes / Oh, I could not keep a straight face / Me without clothes? / Well, a nation turns its back and gags.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnYzvOg7aOI/AAAAAAAAAd8/OaD8cT6zyoY/s1600-h/morrissey_0_mid-size.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365532892501600482" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnYzvOg7aOI/AAAAAAAAAd8/OaD8cT6zyoY/s400/morrissey_0_mid-size.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I agree much more than you..........I don't get tired of hearing this song, reminds me of so many things, personal things, inner feelings, things that happened to me, i'll do to hear it live too. (they suspended the show in Oakland in april and I miss his show in Houston, danm it!) but I will see him!﻿ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really love this pic really goes with the song. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;What I'll do to find a Morrissey Lover Like Me&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;THIS MAN WRITES MY LIFE.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1394183547245409943?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1394183547245409943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1394183547245409943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#87'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SnYz4p3yM7I/AAAAAAAAAeE/HzLSTpn2B3M/s72-c/morrissey_tab_02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8081347392445745176</id><published>2009-07-26T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:39:47.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#86</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sm0TSjzRtgI/AAAAAAAAAds/7OYr0xCM98s/s1600-h/morrissey_24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362963940837012994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sm0TSjzRtgI/AAAAAAAAAds/7OYr0xCM98s/s400/morrissey_24.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; “Jack the Ripper” &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rightfully called “the all-time greatest hit that Morrissey forgot to record,” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Jack the Ripper” was, in its first incarnation, a slightly instrumentally subdued, morbid love plea from the perspective of the Victorian killer. Reincarnated with guitar-slicing gusto on the import only live album, Beethoven Was Deaf, the live version surprisingly gained considerable coverage on alt. rock radio stations in ‘93. In true Morrissey fashion, the final re&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sm0TIrTzv5I/AAAAAAAAAdk/2rmIMvNhOWs/s1600-h/Morrissey-Jack-The-RipperL-17100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 219px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362963771053817746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sm0TIrTzv5I/AAAAAAAAAdk/2rmIMvNhOWs/s400/Morrissey-Jack-The-RipperL-17100.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;peated lines of “Nobody knows me” insists that Morrissey feels some sympathy and possibly a sort of kinship with the murderer. A haunting track, the live version has since appeared on both the “Now My Heart is Full” single and the “My Early Burglary Years.” Possibly in an attempt to further highlight this missed rock of gold, Morrissey extensively played the song on his 2002 tour. I love this song so much Here’s hoping he throws it in on his current tour. If Morrissey had heard the tale of Danielle, the lyrics would be much different they would go some like this; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh, you look so gorgeous Mouth cherry red and wide sweet-smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I ill-advised Your&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sm0TAPPsUUI/AAAAAAAAAdc/lmTmyYlyTyY/s1600-h/l_7c82bda5d8fef0b9d71d65f711115f0f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 334px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362963626081407298" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sm0TAPPsUUI/AAAAAAAAAdc/lmTmyYlyTyY/s400/l_7c82bda5d8fef0b9d71d65f711115f0f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; face is as gorgeous &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As your life has been" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8081347392445745176?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8081347392445745176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8081347392445745176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_26.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#86'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sm0TSjzRtgI/AAAAAAAAAds/7OYr0xCM98s/s72-c/morrissey_24.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-5235807058553147438</id><published>2009-07-25T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T16:50:50.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY SLEEPING MIND......#85</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmuaKJZ_4yI/AAAAAAAAAdU/WohJRd_ftZ8/s1600-h/morrissey5245.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 385px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362549280429040418" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmuaKJZ_4yI/AAAAAAAAAdU/WohJRd_ftZ8/s400/morrissey5245.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Your eyes, by the night wind sent, awakes my quiet instrument. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the silence of your steps, I can see into your soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Messenger of sympathies, my heart beats loud in exstacy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When your shadow falls on me, don't put me in; reality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I chase every night after you.&lt;br /&gt;Of all your loaded mysteries, the color of your sympathies,my words cannot express your awful loveliness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So come with me through smoke and mirrors.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll bring our differences nearer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll float upon an inland sea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmuaEI224FI/AAAAAAAAAdM/bXreUiNprTw/s1600-h/2341_53591825874_518965874_1553688_6468809_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 302px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362549177202434130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmuaEI224FI/AAAAAAAAAdM/bXreUiNprTw/s400/2341_53591825874_518965874_1553688_6468809_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Embody visions of a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I chase every night after you.&lt;br /&gt;I got a chill, and the night wind sent me a chill.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You wander through my sleeping mind, reading thoughts I've left behind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always know when you've been there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tangles of perfume fill my hair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-5235807058553147438?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/5235807058553147438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/5235807058553147438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-sleeping-mind85.html' title='MY SLEEPING MIND......#85'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmuaKJZ_4yI/AAAAAAAAAdU/WohJRd_ftZ8/s72-c/morrissey5245.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-285058898791777672</id><published>2009-07-21T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T18:50:58.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TUESDAY WITH DAVID BOWIE.....LETS DANCE DANIELLE.....#84</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmZweHK9iXI/AAAAAAAAAdE/5GDeLXkIU0Y/s1600-h/david_bowie_06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 355px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361096069054564722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmZweHK9iXI/AAAAAAAAAdE/5GDeLXkIU0Y/s400/david_bowie_06.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmZwGTrjYNI/AAAAAAAAAc8/KFiSu7ZPJzE/s1600-h/l_da0f171ab67892e0180d00c88e5b4144.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361095660095627474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmZwGTrjYNI/AAAAAAAAAc8/KFiSu7ZPJzE/s400/l_da0f171ab67892e0180d00c88e5b4144.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I grew up on Bowie and Morrissey and R.E.M, really got me through the hardships of being a teen. Everyone was into Nirvana or 2-pac, Some did not believe that the voice coming out of the speakers was that of Bowie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must say I got some people hooked on Bowie..... at the time, but when I went to a party and brought my music, that is all that would be playing all night after people heard it - ended up recording tapes for a lot of people. By the way, china girl was co-written with Iggy Pop and was first released on Iggy's album the Idiot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bowie toured playing piano for him but quit after awhile as he said it did not pay enough. Had a photo of Bowie in the background at an Iggy Pop concert....so if Danielle ever wants to get into Bowie I must dig out some classic TAPES and record them oh the lovely 90's and Danielle will live on forever.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-285058898791777672?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/285058898791777672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/285058898791777672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/tuesday-with-david-bowielets-dance_21.html' title='TUESDAY WITH DAVID BOWIE.....LETS DANCE DANIELLE.....#84'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmZweHK9iXI/AAAAAAAAAdE/5GDeLXkIU0Y/s72-c/david_bowie_06.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8766899840557813513</id><published>2009-07-20T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T17:11:29.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STILL ILL......#83</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmUHiBajbeI/AAAAAAAAAc0/bIfr7oGF5xo/s1600-h/morrissey_tab_05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360699212531199458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmUHiBajbeI/AAAAAAAAAc0/bIfr7oGF5xo/s400/morrissey_tab_05.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Spoken words alone cannot express, &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The love I have for you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The written art of love is what convinces Myself, that you are the one for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I gaze into your eyes With every movement of your listless ways, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The grasping of your hand, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The warmth of your heart &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe that you can make me feel like no other!!!&lt;br /&gt;Once I believed that love was only a fable, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Configured in the mind, planted by others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there was you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like a flower in bloom, wow, what a dream come true!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are times we you make me happy, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are times when you make me blue, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what is even worse, is when I don't get to see you... &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360699047950365282" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmUHYcTbMmI/AAAAAAAAAcs/TnQXrEQMHQs/s400/l_857bbf5c66a84ca1acd36442f1aa412c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8766899840557813513?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8766899840557813513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8766899840557813513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/still-ill83.html' title='STILL ILL......#83'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmUHiBajbeI/AAAAAAAAAc0/bIfr7oGF5xo/s72-c/morrissey_tab_05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6926193414884375334</id><published>2009-07-19T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T12:45:39.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#82</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmN3Q7AiB2I/AAAAAAAAAcU/nB-C9h4gtD8/s1600-h/l_10387bfe5e4321b300111f85bf83919b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360259114102556514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmN3Q7AiB2I/AAAAAAAAAcU/nB-C9h4gtD8/s400/l_10387bfe5e4321b300111f85bf83919b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; “Sunny” and “Boxers”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both written in ‘95 during Morrissey’s boxer and fake-cuts-on-his-face phase, both deal with fallen heroes and shattered dreams. The former is a sweet ode to Sonny Liston with less than subtle references to his alleged drug use: “With your jean belt wrapped around your arm / Oh&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmN3ogkg3NI/AAAAAAAAAck/zgL_K32fPoI/s1600-h/Morrissey-Sunny-89541-991.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360259519322578130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmN3ogkg3NI/AAAAAAAAAck/zgL_K32fPoI/s400/Morrissey-Sunny-89541-991.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Sunny my heart goes out to you / And with the needle pressed on to tight skin / Sunny, I cry when I see where it’s taken you.” The song is accompanied by one of Morrissey’s best videos, where a trio of lower-middle class British youth loiter and love in Victoria Park. The latter shares the same theme of a fallen hero, but has a slightly more optimistic tone, with the losing boxer still being loved by his hometown and his nephew “all the same.” Released only as a single, Morrissey soon realized that it deserved more, and thus stuck the song on every compilation of his since. Danielle, is truly a hero in my world of Morrissey. So like Morrissey to single out one of the best track he has wr&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmN3dg6Ah-I/AAAAAAAAAcc/D5WbdGqArDk/s1600-h/l_078bd94cffab42cfb527fe1af0fbf538.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360259330434172898" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmN3dg6Ah-I/AAAAAAAAAcc/D5WbdGqArDk/s400/l_078bd94cffab42cfb527fe1af0fbf538.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;itten. My guess is that he was trying to hide it. Just like I would hide Danielle, and keep her in the place where nobody knows and is the one we've been dreaming of. Just like Morrissey I too realized she does deserved more......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6926193414884375334?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6926193414884375334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6926193414884375334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_19.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#82'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmN3Q7AiB2I/AAAAAAAAAcU/nB-C9h4gtD8/s72-c/l_10387bfe5e4321b300111f85bf83919b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7930493073500504862</id><published>2009-07-17T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T14:19:34.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE CONVERSATION WE NEVER HAD....#81</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmDqxwGNY9I/AAAAAAAAAcM/DJiiutL83IM/s1600-h/MorrisseyLOWRYPIC10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359541697016325074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmDqxwGNY9I/AAAAAAAAAcM/DJiiutL83IM/s400/MorrisseyLOWRYPIC10.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Danielle - Do you love me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jay - I love you, for you I have this feeling. since the day I saw you I like you and I also love you. and you do you love me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Danielle - I like you. despite that we hardly see each other. since the day we met I liked you and I also miss you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jay - Is so beautiful to know that another soul. thinks of you to end of the glory. Me and you are two that have and feel sweet love. It is why forever me and you. we will live like this so happy we'll be, you'll depend on me like I'll depend on you in any time any day and you do you love me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Danielle - I like you because you very kind to me. But thanks to destiny I like you and I also love you. And I know you love me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jay - Yes! I love you.. for you I'll do anything, I'm here I'm your lover, your best friend and also your soul mate&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmDqsH-ri0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/Uy5wuwu60OY/s1600-h/l_b86bde4e1dc543b84df8e69db581a425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359541600347982658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmDqsH-ri0I/AAAAAAAAAcE/Uy5wuwu60OY/s400/l_b86bde4e1dc543b84df8e69db581a425.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;..... This love was born the day that god cross our paths. And put your smile,voice and whole in my sight.. It was worth being born for the fact that one day we can be much more than friends. facts of life facts of love. And the beautiful things that life has to offer...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7930493073500504862?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7930493073500504862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7930493073500504862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/conversation-we-never-had81.html' title='THE CONVERSATION WE NEVER HAD....#81'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SmDqxwGNY9I/AAAAAAAAAcM/DJiiutL83IM/s72-c/MorrisseyLOWRYPIC10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1737847453616840364</id><published>2009-07-16T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T17:08:48.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY DEAREST LOVE....#80</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl_BA-0UbbI/AAAAAAAAAb8/rgWoIeC9M6U/s1600-h/Morrissey%25201_Credit_Travis%2520Shinn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359214304200781234" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl_BA-0UbbI/AAAAAAAAAb8/rgWoIeC9M6U/s400/Morrissey%25201_Credit_Travis%2520Shinn.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My every waking moment, you entice my thoughts with sweet words and deeds. Hearing your voice brings peaceful comfort and a smile to my face at the mere thought of you. My heart beats for you alone, my darling! When our eyes locked for the very first time, you rendered me breathless. Now, with the same intense gaze, passionate warmth envelops my heart. As each moment passes us by, I feel myself drawn more closely to you. The memories we have shared thus far encompass only the beginning as many more will come. My heart soars blissfully when I am with you. In your absence, I close my eyes and dream of your close embrace, our fingers intertwined and your soft lips pressed against mine. Sweetheart, everything about you takes my breath away. Body, Mind, Heart and Soul -With you I am truly Whole.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359214170283546770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl_A5L79mJI/AAAAAAAAAb0/-DN45PR2bLw/s400/l_8a47abd840f043c1acc4b8abb9772a05.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1737847453616840364?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1737847453616840364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1737847453616840364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-dearest-love80.html' title='MY DEAREST LOVE....#80'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl_BA-0UbbI/AAAAAAAAAb8/rgWoIeC9M6U/s72-c/Morrissey%25201_Credit_Travis%2520Shinn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-2760481185240860188</id><published>2009-07-15T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T18:30:55.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY SWEET DANIELLE....#78</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl6Cm79FfZI/AAAAAAAAAbs/u8HEHqxCQVc/s1600-h/MorrisseyGMEX12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 289px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358864212058013074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl6Cm79FfZI/AAAAAAAAAbs/u8HEHqxCQVc/s400/MorrisseyGMEX12.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My sweet Danielle &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my Angel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my Mozgirl&lt;br /&gt;I really want to see you fly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Really want to be with you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Really want to see you laugh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you're so far away, my Danielle&lt;br /&gt;I really want to know you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Really want to pain with you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Really want to cry with you That it wont take long, my love&lt;br /&gt;I really want to see you run&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Really want to hear you talk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Really want to see you, over and over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl6Cg9IavsI/AAAAAAAAAbk/ptxTfgAnTbs/s1600-h/n518965874_432847_2415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358864109294763714" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl6Cg9IavsI/AAAAAAAAAbk/ptxTfgAnTbs/s400/n518965874_432847_2415.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Really want to see you, Why is it taking so long? my Danielle&lt;br /&gt;I really want to know you more &lt;div&gt;I Really want to go with you to end of time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Really want to show you more&lt;br /&gt;Now, I really want to see you Really want to be with you Really want to see you But it takes so long, my sweet Danielle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-2760481185240860188?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2760481185240860188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2760481185240860188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-sweet-danielle78.html' title='MY SWEET DANIELLE....#78'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sl6Cm79FfZI/AAAAAAAAAbs/u8HEHqxCQVc/s72-c/MorrisseyGMEX12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8184153913015634393</id><published>2009-07-14T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T14:20:09.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TUESDAY WITH DAVID BOWIE.....LETS DANCE DANIELLE.....#78</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slz2eksilkI/AAAAAAAAAbc/CX4nfRfqATE/s1600-h/davidbowie3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 357px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358428661771048514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slz2eksilkI/AAAAAAAAAbc/CX4nfRfqATE/s400/davidbowie3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; David Bowie. Ziggy. I can’t really imagine my life without him, or that album. I don’t remember how I first heard Bowie, but I remember when I first got Ziggy Stardust. As a freshman in high school, I picked that record up around the time that I bought maladjusted. The two were a vicious combination that left me strolling around campus with the sounds of a space age moon man ripping through my brain. From there I moved to Hunky Dory, and on to Aladdin Sane, and Low before shooting off all scattershot. I’m still picking new records up, but progress is slow as I can’t stop revis&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slz2YMsfckI/AAAAAAAAAbU/JkdUrBLJW6U/s1600-h/697.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 178px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358428552249176642" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slz2YMsfckI/AAAAAAAAAbU/JkdUrBLJW6U/s400/697.jpeg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;iting the old ones long enough to let the new sink in. Ask me what the best record of all time is and I’m likely to tell you it’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. David, takes me beyond this world he’s a mystery that requires a lot of study. both in his work and human life his image of the inverse and aliens takes music to a whole new world. “if bowie does Ziggy them Ziggy does bowie then David does David”…. In other words if Danielle loves Morrissey and Morrissey loves Morrissey then Jay loves Danielle.....get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8184153913015634393?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8184153913015634393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8184153913015634393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/tuesday-with-david-bowielets-dance.html' title='TUESDAY WITH DAVID BOWIE.....LETS DANCE DANIELLE.....#78'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slz2eksilkI/AAAAAAAAAbc/CX4nfRfqATE/s72-c/davidbowie3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7119228248904867682</id><published>2009-07-13T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T13:13:57.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE BEST VOCALS THEY EVER DELIVERED...#77</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SluUxslU-7I/AAAAAAAAAbE/LwU6X1QNVCQ/s1600-h/Moz_on_Drums.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358039763189562290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SluUxslU-7I/AAAAAAAAAbE/LwU6X1QNVCQ/s400/Moz_on_Drums.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Danielle, delivered in 84' to the world. The best single to ever come out to the public I became a fan from the start. in the collection. Yes, I've bought much of the stuff for the music she loves, but I've also been attracted to both her voice by the talents and her hair.&lt;br /&gt;However.....I reckon my favourite DANIELLE, is a MORRISSEY, DANIELLE. that I have ever seen on my collection.&lt;br /&gt;Danielle can be found on the LP of the same name with MORRISSEY, and was also released as a single in September 1984, climbing to #1 in the charts. It's a girl that I find moving and uplifting in equal measures, and it was a touch of genius to ask DANIELLE, to take the vocal as her voice is that great mix of strength and fragility that holds together a truly amazing piece of work.&lt;br /&gt;Teardrop after tea&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SluUHTJ1pjI/AAAAAAAAAa0/yzMUAgrn_IU/s1600-h/l_4263cd6ab99dc3c196162f185f46004d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 296px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358039034808870450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SluUHTJ1pjI/AAAAAAAAAa0/yzMUAgrn_IU/s400/l_4263cd6ab99dc3c196162f185f46004d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rdrop is all I catch myself doing, and she is still released as the best single since MORRISSEY'S SUEDEHEAD reaching #1, and in the process becoming the biggest hit for the world, and indeed for any man that lays eyes on her. A stunning five and a bit minutes of beauty.....it slides along perfectly, and just as you think the vocal has finished and you're into the fade out with the music she comes back at you with a final cry of 'it's tumbling down.....' and then the gorgeous instrumentation begins again.&lt;br /&gt;Oh and of course truly groundbreaking....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;your #1 fan, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7119228248904867682?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7119228248904867682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7119228248904867682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/best-vocals-they-ever-delivered77.html' title='THE BEST VOCALS THEY EVER DELIVERED...#77'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SluUxslU-7I/AAAAAAAAAbE/LwU6X1QNVCQ/s72-c/Moz_on_Drums.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8361729559110804009</id><published>2009-07-12T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T16:42:02.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#76</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slp0WEo4u8I/AAAAAAAAAas/BFkq_hv85WQ/s1600-h/1244048919.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 231px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357722629261802434" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slp0WEo4u8I/AAAAAAAAAas/BFkq_hv85WQ/s400/1244048919.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Seasick, Yet Still Docked” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of Morrissey’s most introspective songs, it’s underevaluation is most likely due to it being curiously sandwiched between the jocular ‘You’re the One for Me, Fatty” and the gospel-glam of “I Know It’s Gonna Happen Someday.” A simple acoustic melody backs Morrissey’s stark autobiographical lyrics that cover his entire, and lengthy, list of insecurities. If I was asked to point to one song that summed up What Is Morrissey?, I would aim the questioner here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What more can I say I love this song as much as I love my dreams of DANIELLE, we both got to hear this song live back in Coachella of this year. She stood in the left side of the stage as I stood in the right side. we were so close yet so far from each other. She stole the entire night when I found her between the crowd with here MORRISSEY 101 shirt MORRISSEY pin. I could not ask for a more perfect night to end. one of the best highlights of my chapters in this journey of mine. MORRISSEY and DANIELLE under one sky...........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a poor freezingly cold soul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So far from where I intended to go &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slp0G4DXuEI/AAAAAAAAAak/mgvqzWo439Q/s1600-h/4436_89103045874_518965874_1971644_6713665_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357722368185186370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slp0G4DXuEI/AAAAAAAAAak/mgvqzWo439Q/s400/4436_89103045874_518965874_1971644_6713665_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Scavenging through life's very constant lulls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So far from where I'm determined to go &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish I knew the way to reach the one I love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is no way ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish I had the charm to attract the one I love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you see, I've got no charm Mmm...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight I've consumed much more than I can hold &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, this is very clear to you And you can tell &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have never really loved You can tell, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;by the way, I sleep all day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And all of my life no-one gave me anything &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No-one has ever given me anything &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My love is as sharp as a needle in your eye You must be such a fool to pass me by...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just found this rare Seasick Yet Still Docked (Charles Bukowski mix) at the Morrissey-Solo forums. Created by member Bike Tragedy using the live version from BBC Theater, clips from the film Barfly and ends with excerpt of Bukowski reading from his poem "The Genius of the Crowd." Brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;I love the sample "to all my friends" that bookends the mix.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8361729559110804009?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8361729559110804009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8361729559110804009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_12.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#76'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Slp0WEo4u8I/AAAAAAAAAas/BFkq_hv85WQ/s72-c/1244048919.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3708143932309314129</id><published>2009-07-07T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T16:22:37.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TUESDAY WITH DAVID BOWIE.....LETS DANCE DANIELLE.....#75</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlPdyeDzt9I/AAAAAAAAAaU/VMPkpeGTzP8/s1600-h/david_bowie_scan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355868241005885394" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlPdyeDzt9I/AAAAAAAAAaU/VMPkpeGTzP8/s400/david_bowie_scan1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; David Buckley is the author of a biography that is widely regarded as the most comprehensive biography on David Bowie (Strange Fascination: David Bowie: The Definitive Story there is yet by critics and Bowie fans alike (I’m not included in this throng as I haven’t read this biography as of now)…and, aside from being a long-time fan, his drive behind this motive? It was part of writing a PhD thesis on the “Chameleon of Pop” – can you imagine, basing a thesis about David Bowie? I’m not being critical – no, in fact I’m actually quite astounded. A PhD thesis about David Bowie…I can only imagine. It seems that David Bowie isn’t that far off from being a subject studied in university – if Shakespeare is studied, why not Bowie? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having said that, while it does sound grand to have written a PhD thesis about him, (and I’d love to read it, if I should ever get the opportunity I don’t know if studying him as an academic subject, analyzing, would necessarily fare well…he is a person after all, not a specimen. But then wouldn’t that apply to all other persons that could be studied, to the point of being a core subject on their own? I think it would depend on the person being studied; I think that for a person to be extensively studied there has to be a lot of mythology and such surrounding him to be studied – in other words, whether it’s a man or a woman, this person in particular has to have dimension as well as his work. I think also what contributes to the possibility of an academic studying of a person is also how much they have influenced and contributed to society.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This takes us back to the question, “If Shakespeare is studied, why not Bowie?” It is not Shakespeare the person that is being studied, but rather his works. There may be some biographical study, yet overall it is his works that are being studied. It is intellectual. To study David Bowie on the other hand, put frankly, is, in my opinion, studying a personality of pop culture – yes, a major pop and music icon who has a lot of influence, but in the intellectual field this influence falls almost to nil. (Whereas let’s say Beethoven or Mozart, or any other great figure in classical music were to be studied, it would be their music that would be studied – music theory, time signatures, etc.) Certainly, his art is for enjoyment but for it to be painstakingly researched and analyzed to the tiniest detail possible…it strips it down to the point where there’s nothing left. In my opinion, David Bowie’s work (songs and albums in particular) can only be analyzed so much – which it’s received throughout the decades of him being in the music industry – though there will hardly be – if ever – any conclusive, final answers because what he does is very dynamic and consequently can have many, different meanings – really, it all boils down to personal opinion, doesn’t it? – and in some cases, no sensible meaning at all. Some people have this determined idea that there is some great, big mystery to be solved, some underlying meaning in “that song” or a particular set of songs, but most of the time, they’re just stories. Even David Bowie himself has said that he’s not trying to tell or prophesy anything through them; they’re just stories. It’s the people who listen to those songs that put meaning into them, by their perceptions and their beliefs. Anything one does is a personal thing: one puts what he puts in it, and as soon as he gives it away to share with others that work is no longer his. It’s then left to what the people make of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlPdrGW_XuI/AAAAAAAAAaM/gUvzTxoNkg0/s1600-h/l_1e9ee6d8a93d0b7fb6ebf9fee9a68433.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355868114384805602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlPdrGW_XuI/AAAAAAAAAaM/gUvzTxoNkg0/s400/l_1e9ee6d8a93d0b7fb6ebf9fee9a68433.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; To be a big fan and knowing “everything” is one thing, it’s another when you actually take someone as a serious study for example DANIELLE,. Studying a person has its limits – you can only go so far, and some people you can study more than others. In my opinion, if one wants to take the initiative on studying a person do it with the sense as if writing a biography or a PhD thesis, whatever, but don’t make it so that the person becomes a study. There’s a key difference between studying a person and making a study out of a person. Do you get what I mean? I’m not saying that having a person as an academic subject isn’t relevant, but there has to be some, for lack of a better word, ethics involved: don’t make the person being studied into a specimen that has to be put under a microscope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3708143932309314129?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3708143932309314129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3708143932309314129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/tuesday-with-bowielets-dance-danielle75.html' title='TUESDAY WITH DAVID BOWIE.....LETS DANCE DANIELLE.....#75'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlPdyeDzt9I/AAAAAAAAAaU/VMPkpeGTzP8/s72-c/david_bowie_scan1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8328544911472500462</id><published>2009-07-06T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T16:04:01.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ASK ME,ASK ME,ASK ME I WON'T SAY NO.... HOW COULD I?...#74</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlKCZ8clomI/AAAAAAAAAaE/gsGqOOrmLKA/s1600-h/morrissey1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355486289131315810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlKCZ8clomI/AAAAAAAAAaE/gsGqOOrmLKA/s400/morrissey1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sit in my dark room lit only by a stray moonlight ray, Enjoying the quiet darkness after a long hard day. I can hear the rain as it falls from the sky to the ground, And feel the sadness in my heart that you're not around. Oh darling, I wish I could explain how I feel without you. An empty shell with a desire that goes all the way through Like the man whose life is without meaning or reward For you are the center and are all that puts it into accord. When I am away from you my soul hurts with an ache There's no way that I can be happy, I can not even fake. For you are my everything and all that keeps me going More I am away from you, the more I feel it growing. When you're with me, I feel so special each and every time So wonderful that if any better, then it would be a crime I know that you have other friends that force you to decide But you never make me feel guilty, intruding or put aside All that I feel from you is that I am your number one It makes me smile cause I am the earth to your sun You are the center with your sparkling eyes and smile So when I touch you, it is like it is you and I on an isle. I miss you so much sweetie that I can't explain how much There is such a loneliness inside of me for your touch My mind cries out to be with you no matter what the cost Please &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hun&lt;/span&gt;, please understand that without you, I am lost I am dying to hold you tight in my arms until the sun rises To feel the warmth of your sexy body with all its surprise&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlKCUNKoKRI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/4vOckCegMuw/s1600-h/241870880_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 319px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355486190540171538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlKCUNKoKRI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/4vOckCegMuw/s400/241870880_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;s My body remembers your scent and how it drove me wild That scent has a passion and seduction but yet is so mild. When I kiss that neck of yours, I feel a part of me reacting It's a piece of me that I can not hide with any type of acting If you could hug me close, you would know how I feel You react with a smile and my heart you would steal I feel your kisses on my neck as I think of your lips I would pull you closer with my hands on your hips Closer and closer to my body so there is no room between Feeling kiss after kiss as I lovingly caress those &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Morrissey&lt;/span&gt; shirts So tell me sweetheart, can you tell that I miss you yet? Can you tell that I want to be with you without regret? So until I am with you again and feel your warmth to mine I will miss you and look forward to the time when we dine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8328544911472500462?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8328544911472500462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8328544911472500462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/ask-meask-meask-me-i-wont-say-no-how.html' title='ASK ME,ASK ME,ASK ME I WON&apos;T SAY NO.... HOW COULD I?...#74'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlKCZ8clomI/AAAAAAAAAaE/gsGqOOrmLKA/s72-c/morrissey1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7973052421124833200</id><published>2009-07-05T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T14:36:28.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#73</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlD5SztOAOI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/XwgRtqJ_vW4/s1600-h/live.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355054058456350946" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlD5SztOAOI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/XwgRtqJ_vW4/s400/live.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the death of the "king of pop" and my mother being in the hospital I thought I'd pay my respects to them and not post any blogs these pass weeks. June was not a kind month with the death of 5 more famous celebrities. I'm happy to report that my mother is well and back in the house. we all have to understand that we are not her forever. Life is a loan when it expires we must return it to it's owner I think we all know who that is...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Alsatian Cousin” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This song brings too many ?? I love the power of being privet the lyrics speak for them self's but&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One has to remember that this was the first post-Smiths song of Morrissey’s solo career. Some truly menacing guitar work by Vini Reilly perfectly fits with Morrissey’s sneering lyrics of demanded love. Remembering that the last song Morrissey committed to tape before this was the gentle “I Won’t Share You” makes the contrast even more stark. Which may be the reason the song is largely ignored in the Morrissey-solo canon: nobody, most of all Smiths fans, was ready to hear him lustfully snarl “But on the desk is where I want you!" Danielle, loves this song I once joke with her on that terrible facebook site when she ask "why am I at work all alone." my reply was well your boss found "A note upon his desk" that read "P.S. bring me home and have me" so now you see why you're there all alone.. God bless Danielle and her Morrissey ways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Were you and he Lovers ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And would you say so if you were ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a forecourt On a Friday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Passing my way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Were you and he Lovers ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if you were, then say that you were!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlD5KegzuhI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Oa5kYuLpSOA/s1600-h/l_bcb0b94320144914a213fcf62fd539a5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355053915328199186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlD5KegzuhI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Oa5kYuLpSOA/s400/l_bcb0b94320144914a213fcf62fd539a5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On a groundsheet &lt;div&gt;Under canvas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With your tent-flap open wide&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A note upon his desk" P.S. Bring Me Home And Have Me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Leather elbows on a tweed coat-Oh!-Is THAT the best you can do ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So came his reply :"But on the desk is where I want you!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I ask (even though I know):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Were you and he lovers?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7973052421124833200?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7973052421124833200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7973052421124833200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#73'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SlD5SztOAOI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/XwgRtqJ_vW4/s72-c/live.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-5838599107064688524</id><published>2009-06-23T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T19:06:08.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU ARE THE EVERYTHING.....#72</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkGJ1A3SKbI/AAAAAAAAAZk/T0Eidvw6CTI/s1600-h/morrissey1542.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350709376150809010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkGJ1A3SKbI/AAAAAAAAAZk/T0Eidvw6CTI/s400/morrissey1542.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I feel like I can't even sing (say, say, the light)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm very scared for this world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm very scared for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eviscerate your memory&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a scene You're in the back seat laying down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The windows wrap around&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To sound of the travel and the engine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All you hear is time stand still in travel and feel such peace and absolute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The stillness still that doesn't end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But slowly drifts into sleep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The stars are the greatest thing you've ever seen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And they're there for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For you alone you are the everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think about this world a lot and I cry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I've seen the films and the eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkGJv0dnaVI/AAAAAAAAAZc/GFVqy_ECHJ8/s1600-h/l_dcc9fc1b687f2b70d7026b73fce86630.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 395px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350709286922578258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkGJv0dnaVI/AAAAAAAAAZc/GFVqy_ECHJ8/s400/l_dcc9fc1b687f2b70d7026b73fce86630.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; But I'm in this kitchen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything is beautiful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And she is so beautiful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is so young and old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look at her and I see the beauty Of the light of music&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The voices talking somewhere in the house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Late spring and you're drifting off to sleep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With your teeth in your mouth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are here with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are here with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have been here and you are everything....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-5838599107064688524?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/5838599107064688524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/5838599107064688524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-are-everything72.html' title='YOU ARE THE EVERYTHING.....#72'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkGJ1A3SKbI/AAAAAAAAAZk/T0Eidvw6CTI/s72-c/morrissey1542.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8134330213593304299</id><published>2009-06-23T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T18:08:06.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I MISS YOU......#71</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkF8NoAFl3I/AAAAAAAAAZU/Fa1W81QSwsY/s1600-h/morrissey-1-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350694405810788210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkF8NoAFl3I/AAAAAAAAAZU/Fa1W81QSwsY/s400/morrissey-1-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I tell you how much &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss Your sweet text reply? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I say I didn't? Well I lied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lie lie lied because I miss you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Over real over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I nearly hit the wall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So tired of packaging my dream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Always pushing you away&lt;br /&gt;Did I tell you you're wonderful? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss you yes I do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I tell you that I was lost? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was lost&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;n your wonderful eyes&lt;br /&gt;Did I tell you how much I miss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your smile,pictures? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I tell you I was okay with out you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkF8E-BQXtI/AAAAAAAAAZM/EFyNBDI2O_0/s1600-h/n518965874_1254404_4615.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 305px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350694257102446290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkF8E-BQXtI/AAAAAAAAAZM/EFyNBDI2O_0/s400/n518965874_1254404_4615.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well NO! No way..&lt;br /&gt;You're wonderful!&lt;br /&gt;Now each and every day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realize the price I have to pay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You you're my Angel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now for your information&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm walking around like an arm decoration&lt;br /&gt;You you're an Angel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So high I cant get over it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So deep I cant get under it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss you yes I do......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8134330213593304299?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8134330213593304299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8134330213593304299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-miss-you71.html' title='I MISS YOU......#71'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkF8NoAFl3I/AAAAAAAAAZU/Fa1W81QSwsY/s72-c/morrissey-1-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-614009764799981044</id><published>2009-06-22T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T16:50:54.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU AND I.....#70</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkAYVIJlbdI/AAAAAAAAAZE/ZbfdIPtWxtU/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350303108560154066" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkAYVIJlbdI/AAAAAAAAAZE/ZbfdIPtWxtU/s400/untitled.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is a many splintered thing, they say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I believe it when you looked my way,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Out of the blue, things seemed to happen By chance or destiny, is the question.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Living my life so long, without knowing your existence,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then came a day we felt each others presence,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guess what's meant to be will always find a way,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love creeps into hearts and decides to stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A love so exquisite, yet so intricate, In a world of only "you and I"A love we can't even demonstrate, A secret we have to keep for life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you, honey, and its from my heart,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you know that you're no beggar from the start,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You make me fly without wings,You make my heart wants to sing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every moment I spent with you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is every one&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkAYGmOtIvI/AAAAAAAAAY8/jXxMStQE2Gc/s1600-h/l_3765aa18471ba2bea2e625605f3b3f14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350302858936656626" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkAYGmOtIvI/AAAAAAAAAY8/jXxMStQE2Gc/s400/l_3765aa18471ba2bea2e625605f3b3f14.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; of my dreams coming true,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More than words, I want to show you how I feel,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someday, some place, sometime, I will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is a journey for two,&lt;br /&gt;Step by step, me and you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The future we can't see,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let love lead the way for you and me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-614009764799981044?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/614009764799981044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/614009764799981044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-is-many-splintered-thing-they-say.html' title='YOU AND I.....#70'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SkAYVIJlbdI/AAAAAAAAAZE/ZbfdIPtWxtU/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6728970704723048278</id><published>2009-06-21T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T15:54:59.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#69</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sj5n1Gv4ZHI/AAAAAAAAAY0/h3dP-BZGwgY/s1600-h/IMG_1990-767368.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349827569404896370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sj5n1Gv4ZHI/AAAAAAAAAY0/h3dP-BZGwgY/s400/IMG_1990-767368.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After last week's loves for MORRISSEY, there really could only be one song selected today:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey - The Last Of The Famous International Playboys&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was his third solo single, and was released at the end of January 1989. It was a track that got a lot of radio play on (K-rock) and fared well in the charts, hitting the giddy heights of #6.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the humble opinion of this particular fan, this is one of the best-ever Morrissey singles. Produced by Stephen Street (who also plays keyboards), it has the benefit of having Andy Rourke on bass and Mike Joyce on drums, as well as Craig Gannon on guitar, which makes it as near a Smiths reunion as you can get sans Johnny. (Incidentally, the other guitarist on the record is Neil Taylor, who lists Morrissey alongside Tears For Fears, Natalie Imbruglia, Peter Gabriel, Rod Stewart, Tina Turner, The Pretenders, Van Morrison, Holly Johnso&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sj5mfRvI4PI/AAAAAAAAAYU/pK3YHB0b1qw/s1600-h/playboys.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 283px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349826094885822706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sj5mfRvI4PI/AAAAAAAAAYU/pK3YHB0b1qw/s400/playboys.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;n, Paul Young, Climie Fisher and Robbie Williams as the acts he has played guitar for over the years.....)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On first listen it seems nothing more than a homage to the 1960s East End gangsters, Reggie and Ronnie Kray (who were immortalised on-screen by none other than Gary and Martin Kemp of Spandau Ballet in this film). But it is also a lyric that links to The Playboy of The Western World a play that caused great controversy when first performed back in 1907....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The anti-Morrissey brigade had a field day when this single emerged, accusing him of glorifying gangsters and violence, when in fact it was an ironic comment on the media's continual obsession with the twins. And while it is rumoured that Morrissey sent a wreath to Ronnie Kray's funeral in 1995, I'm sure that this is nothing more than an urban myth, or at worst an ill-conceived media stunt.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349826925772788674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sj5nPpCB08I/AAAAAAAAAYs/n7fg_3pd8Hk/s400/l_90e7c53b551e27b26741e0a917dbc6e8.jpg" /&gt;Here's your rather enjoyable b-sides, neither of which were made available elsewhere&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey - Lucky Lisp&lt;br /&gt;Morrissey - Michael's Bones&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Incidentally, the cover star is Morrissey himself as it is a family photo taken of him at the age of 7 as he climbed a tree (a case of a boy at play......)&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I play this song almost everyday. So how does the great DANIELLE fit into this song, when the target are gangsters, well, DANIELLE, is like a gangster the more I want to hate her I just catch myself wanting her even more. I know she's trouble with that smile. I just have to see her next move. when the fact reminds that I'm bond to get hurt but the pain brings me closer. (and have since picked up the 12" version)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SUNDAY, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6728970704723048278?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6728970704723048278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6728970704723048278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_21.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#69'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sj5n1Gv4ZHI/AAAAAAAAAY0/h3dP-BZGwgY/s72-c/IMG_1990-767368.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7085727568095429342</id><published>2009-06-17T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T18:02:50.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ALL I CAN SAY....#68</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjmRBiMeVQI/AAAAAAAAAX8/p3FKaP-OaDY/s1600-h/moz02o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348465488024196354" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjmRBiMeVQI/AAAAAAAAAX8/p3FKaP-OaDY/s400/moz02o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There are so many words I cannot say, when I look into your eyes. I want to be able to tell you one day, but I'm left speechless every time that I try.&lt;br /&gt;You must have stumbled across the key, and discovered so much more. You found a hidden place in me, you found my heart and opened the door. And I cried in pain of losing my dear friend.&lt;br /&gt;Will it ever be the same again? If it passes will it be the end? I realized it was worth so much, as I lie in bed that night. So I allowed my soul to be touched, without even putting up a fight. Are my eyes deceiving me, when I see you standing there? Are you playing games, just to prove I care?&lt;br /&gt;You speak my name in a prelude, in a reference to love, with such loving attitude, as if it were a message from above. With the palms of your hands pressed firmly against mine, a white doves lands, and the sun begins to shine.&lt;br /&gt;Someday I will see, though that day has not come yet. You'll say you love me, but will you ever forget? If that happens and my spirit dies, if my emotions drop, will you want to hold me when I cry? Or will the love just suddenly stop? We can't expect to fall in love and never cry.&lt;br /&gt;You'll stay and play your part, but after the beauty starts to die, will your footprints still be on my heart? Though it would be hard to say goodbye, your friend I'll always be, as long as we always try, to keep the friendship between you and me.&lt;br /&gt;The letter I will not se&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjmQ74Fq4ZI/AAAAAAAAAX0/Rld5-RkfF7g/s1600-h/l_863dda1f92ecb6e44c3584cbdc1e5624.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348465390822023570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjmQ74Fq4ZI/AAAAAAAAAX0/Rld5-RkfF7g/s400/l_863dda1f92ecb6e44c3584cbdc1e5624.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nd will casually inquire, how could you have brought it to an end? I was your one desire. After this life is over, you'll be one person I know I'll miss.&lt;br /&gt;It'll be too late to start over, and so I leave you with this... I'll hold you for a lifetime, if you'll just hold my hand. We could have a wonderful time, in the days we have not yet planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I force to overdose on any one drug, that drug would be sleeping pills. Just to be in the pleca I've always dreamt about, Jay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7085727568095429342?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7085727568095429342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7085727568095429342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/all-i-can-say68.html' title='ALL I CAN SAY....#68'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjmRBiMeVQI/AAAAAAAAAX8/p3FKaP-OaDY/s72-c/moz02o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4576015015299413165</id><published>2009-06-16T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T17:35:33.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE DOES........#67</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sjg5lk9FnQI/AAAAAAAAAXs/74WY5ydjTNc/s1600-h/moz13o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348087875240303874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sjg5lk9FnQI/AAAAAAAAAXs/74WY5ydjTNc/s400/moz13o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I like anyone kid would be with a crush &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so flattered by my fascination for you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like any teen would do &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have simply wanted to carve your face in me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you you're not impress &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're walking right by me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Must be some poison deep in you Killing me for you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Must be someone deep in you blinding you from me&lt;br /&gt;Must be strangely exciting &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To watch one soul fall head first over you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Must be great to be the goddess &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To watch a heart meet reality &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you're not impress one bit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like any young man would be Sorry if I seem extremely psychotic-mad over you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like any young man in his twenty's &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you think of my love like &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sjg5dAArSUI/AAAAAAAAAXk/DVrdfTqJ9cI/s1600-h/moz01o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348087727884290370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sjg5dAArSUI/AAAAAAAAAXk/DVrdfTqJ9cI/s400/moz01o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You had experienced me in some bad way before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you you're all alone this is not allowed &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're what love hates to be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;An unfortunate slight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still think you are worthy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I need a moment to remember............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4576015015299413165?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4576015015299413165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4576015015299413165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-like-everybody-else-does67.html' title='JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE DOES........#67'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sjg5lk9FnQI/AAAAAAAAAXs/74WY5ydjTNc/s72-c/moz13o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-5722221188280211777</id><published>2009-06-14T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T11:46:15.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU.....#66</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjVB1V1pBjI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lSGcsMypnJM/s1600-h/morrissey+in+bakersfield+(11).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347252517223335474" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjVB1V1pBjI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lSGcsMypnJM/s400/morrissey+in+bakersfield+(11).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today's love for MORRISSEY, takes me back to;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10 June 2007 Bakersfield (CA), Rabobank Arena&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final date of the Greatest Hits tour, with two tickets in my hand I had no one to take with me I was in a despreatville form. with hours away I had to turn to the Ex to take with me, finaly a success. Morrissey and the band were all in top form. The sound was excellent. The audience was very receptive and energetic, but there were a few negative elements who threw junk on stage. Three or four fans managed to successfully make it on stage, including a boy of about 4 and a little girl of 10. One full grown stage climber jumped on Morrissey and locked her arms and legs around him. Security had a hard time trying to pry her off and Morrissey was visibly annoyed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minor changes were made to the setlist. The just-reintroduced "Whatever Happens, I Love You" was replaced with part-timer "Lucky Lisp" while "Panic" was replaced with "Girlfriend In A Coma". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the usual "Imperfect List" intro Morrissey's musicians walked on stage and one after the other they walked up to the microphone and shouted "Lights!", "Camera!" or "Action!" Then Morrissey came on and his greeting to the audience was a quote from his song "Girlfriend In A Coma": "Do you really think you'll pull through?" In set opener "First Of The Gang To Die" he changed lines to "you have never been in love until you've seen the stars over Eagle Rock boulevard" (a local reference) and "and he stole from the rich which is you, and the poor which is me, and the very poor". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morrissey exceptionally sang the first line in "You Have Killed Me" as it was recorded and released. However he did the other usual live changes, and even took one of &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjVBrzLIHqI/AAAAAAAAAXU/unznMmj4GjY/s1600-h/l_9014c108c1f54f46bf59ead15559cefc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347252353299390114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjVBrzLIHqI/AAAAAAAAAXU/unznMmj4GjY/s400/l_9014c108c1f54f46bf59ead15559cefc.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;them to "Who am I that I come to be kneeling down here" as he kneeled down to shake someone's hand. After the song he said "Thank God I'm a (?) player..." After "In The Future When All's Well" he said "You just happened to be going through Bakersfield... and you thought to yourself, well, 'can I take it?' and... what's the answer? (fans shout 'yes!') What's the question?" During "Disappointed" a 10-year old little girl climbed on stage. Morrissey held her hand and walked her around for a bit before she made her way back by herself.&lt;br /&gt;Before going into "Let Me Kiss You" Morrissey introduced his musicians: "The boyfriends in a coma are... Boz Boorer... Solomon Walker... Matt Walker... standing on his X, Jesse Tobias... standing on his X, Michael Farrell and (crowd cheers)... please please please, too much attention, so little time..." In "Let Me Kiss You" Morrissey changed a line to "I've zigzagged all over Los Angeles". As an introduction to new composition "That's How People Grow Up" he announced "I shouldn't remind you to be out of the house on June the 25th because we appear on the David Letterman Show and... we sing this song which is called 'Stand By Your Man'..." After the song he said "That's how people grow up, just like that exactly..." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The setlist: First Of The Gang To Die /The Last Of The Famous International Playboys/ You Have Killed Me/ In The Future When All's Well /Disappointed/ Let Me Kiss You/ That's How People Grow Up /The National Front Disco/ Ganglord/ Girlfriend In A Coma /Everyday Is Like Sunday /The Boy With The Thorn In His Side /Irish Blood, English Heart /All You Need Is Me/ You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side /I Just Want To See The Boy Happy/ Lucky Lisp /Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want/ I've Changed My Plea To Guilty/ How Soon Is Now? /The Queen Is Dead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had I meat you then you would have been the first person I'd call to take to see the beloved MORRISSEY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. The pictures above MORRISSEY, is taking the hand of the little girl that made it on stage twice. And yours truly has the same shirt the lovely DANIELLE has on well is just a bit different.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy SUNDAY, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-5722221188280211777?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/5722221188280211777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/5722221188280211777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_14.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU.....#66'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjVB1V1pBjI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lSGcsMypnJM/s72-c/morrissey+in+bakersfield+(11).jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1208661943210845158</id><published>2009-06-13T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T21:25:21.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I LONG FOR YOU.......#65</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR1KKkZyLI/AAAAAAAAAW0/V42SaqvQlP8/s1600-h/morrissey9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 288px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 195px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347027475091802290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR1KKkZyLI/AAAAAAAAAW0/V42SaqvQlP8/s400/morrissey9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love, till you are near &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I long for your touch you are the only one, with you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I'll find love that I need &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love for a life time So please believe it's true &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our love will see us thru &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For one heart share by two We'll always stand, now and forever &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thru the sun, or all thru the rain And for all time You'll always be my love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So please believe it's true &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our love will see us thru For one heart share by two We'll always stand, now and forever &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thru this world, and all thru life And for all time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll always be in love Th&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR16PlNl8I/AAAAAAAAAW8/OyfYuv9am3U/s1600-h/dscf1981.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347028301071095746" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR16PlNl8I/AAAAAAAAAW8/OyfYuv9am3U/s400/dscf1981.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ru my heart, and all thru my soul You'll always be my love, or all thru the ocean And for all time You'll always be to be my love my love to you I need, I long for your touch you are the only one with you I know I´ll find love that I always need love for a life time so please, please believe it´s true our love will see us through for one LIFE, shared by two will always stand now and forever through the hard times and through the good times and for all time, I´ll always be here so please, please believe it´s true..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR0ihMEesI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Y2LSr-Fh7X4/s1600-h/n518965874_1746519_7752470.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 346px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347026793968990914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR0ihMEesI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Y2LSr-Fh7X4/s400/n518965874_1746519_7752470.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR0ihMEesI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Y2LSr-Fh7X4/s1600-h/n518965874_1746519_7752470.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR0ihMEesI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Y2LSr-Fh7X4/s1600-h/n518965874_1746519_7752470.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1208661943210845158?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1208661943210845158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1208661943210845158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-long-for-your65.html' title='I LONG FOR YOU.......#65'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjR1KKkZyLI/AAAAAAAAAW0/V42SaqvQlP8/s72-c/morrissey9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7398941498396402473</id><published>2009-06-12T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:50:04.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BACK FROM COLORADO.......#64</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjMSwbOZIfI/AAAAAAAAAWU/6x0ngncV5lU/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346637805770056178" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjMSwbOZIfI/AAAAAAAAAWU/6x0ngncV5lU/s400/untitled.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What a trip MONICA and I had, it was fun. We decided to come back on a car and not an airplane because I thought it be a lot more fun. But to be honest it was just an excuse to not come back on a plane, I hate them so much. just like I hate sitting in a dark room watching a movie with strangers for two or three hours, most people smell and the sound of them eating and chewing makes me sick. so in simple words I hate the movies too. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But COLORADO, was fun, like I said before I met so many people. I know I'm never going to see again. MONICA, was at her all time great. we had not one negative on this trip. well other than men were hitting on her like if she was honey.....Well in a way she is something like that. kind and sweet all around. We made some stops on our way back and met more people. On our way&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjMSafl7q9I/AAAAAAAAAWM/cvsx5aNCEB0/s1600-h/juh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346637428985408466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjMSafl7q9I/AAAAAAAAAWM/cvsx5aNCEB0/s400/juh.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; back I saw an add that caught my attention of the freeway that said. "DANIELLE GOLD DISCOVERS GOLD CALL AND ASK US HOW." haha I should of taken a picture but I was the one driving. you seem to be everywhere. I thought to myself It's impossible to get away from the girl that MORRISSEY, built in such a beautiful way.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The picture above was taken in COLORADO, I think it was in '04' but not to sure on it. And that's MONICA, see her eyes are honey....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;New York, New York is on my mind, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7398941498396402473?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7398941498396402473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7398941498396402473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/back-from-colorado63.html' title='BACK FROM COLORADO.......#64'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SjMSwbOZIfI/AAAAAAAAAWU/6x0ngncV5lU/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7347375994024240704</id><published>2009-06-08T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T17:21:37.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FROM THE MILE HIGH CITY.......#63</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345114764583448210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Si2pjwqxLpI/AAAAAAAAAV0/-l5l4el7byw/s400/morrissey%2520oscar.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look into your heart and tell me what you see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am I still on your mind; are you thinking of me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you wake in the night and let out a sigh? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you whisper my name and wonder why; I can't be there with you tonight? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With you in my arms, holding you tight?&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in the miracle of Love? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you believe in you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you believe in Love&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Si2pbEPM35I/AAAAAAAAAVs/CWNROiwzgXA/s1600-h/83_Morrissey2_L311005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345114615217708946" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Si2pbEPM35I/AAAAAAAAAVs/CWNROiwzgXA/s400/83_Morrissey2_L311005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you believe it could happen to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take me in your arms, don't ever leave &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With you in my arms, I'll make you believe! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe in Love, always and forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe in us, you and I together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't believe Love is pain, You have everything to lose and nothing to gain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tell me you believe and look into my eyes... Do you believe... I'm not like the other guys?&lt;br /&gt;Hold on tight, for I've given you my heart; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heart and soul from the very start. For your Love, I'll wait forever &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With all my heart, I believe we'll be together. Tell me you believe Love is bliss, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That you can believe in the magic of our first kiss. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Answer me one question, now, before I leave... Tell me, Do You Believe?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Si2qBT6oWLI/AAAAAAAAAV8/fmaMV4sNXFk/s1600-h/l_1f1c978e50bb49f49ca416afd7db4be6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345115272261425330" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Si2qBT6oWLI/AAAAAAAAAV8/fmaMV4sNXFk/s400/l_1f1c978e50bb49f49ca416afd7db4be6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my last day in COLORADO, I have met so many people that I know for a fact I'm never going to see again. Everybody has been so cool, met a lot of MORRISSEY, fans. I didn't know they still existed yet, alone in COLORADO. I'm thinking my next getaway will be NEW YORK. I have to see the place MORRISSEY, talks about. The one place he says is worth going.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yes I did read WARD, and it sux's. Somehow I feel my time will expire here soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having said all that. LIFE AND IT'S DISGUSTING GLORY GOES ON, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7347375994024240704?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7347375994024240704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7347375994024240704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/from-mile-high-city63.html' title='FROM THE MILE HIGH CITY.......#63'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Si2pjwqxLpI/AAAAAAAAAV0/-l5l4el7byw/s72-c/morrissey%2520oscar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4827844470342917309</id><published>2009-06-07T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T09:48:37.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU.....#62</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344624765890408690" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sivr6FSnMPI/AAAAAAAAAVU/yr8hyW7rD0E/s400/NOTA2.jpg" /&gt;Again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lay awake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I cried because of waste&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd love to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(But only with you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Only with you)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, time is gonna wipe us out &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There, I've said it loud and clear &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that you will hear &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's no one in view &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And time will never wipe you out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I've had enough &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've had more than could be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My rightful share &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of nights I can't bear &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How can it be fair ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time must wipe them out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, again, I lay awake &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a trance &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I just want my chance &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But only with you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Only with you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 302px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344627999100653522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sivu2R8AT9I/AAAAAAAAAVk/xYxdG-beWGM/s400/2341_53591825874_518965874_1553688_6468809_n.jpg" /&gt;That's all &lt;div&gt;That's all.....................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I’d Love To” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This song should be on every infatuation mixtape. Morrissey’s careful vocal phrasing makes his lyrics of unadulterated monogamy that much more forceful. The song is just so perfectly understated, so wonderfully airy, and so sweetly candid. When some unlisted female(?) singer wordlessly come in at the end, I’m already mush. A voice that takes me away, Can it be DANIELLE? My answer to that would be YES!....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for the years, Happy SUNDAY, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4827844470342917309?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4827844470342917309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4827844470342917309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU.....#62'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sivr6FSnMPI/AAAAAAAAAVU/yr8hyW7rD0E/s72-c/NOTA2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-741431153670375039</id><published>2009-06-01T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T20:28:18.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THANK YOU ALL......#61</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiSa_wBN9rI/AAAAAAAAAVM/IzoPeQ3g1KI/s1600-h/n532875387_2002740_5237710.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342565477980698290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiSa_wBN9rI/AAAAAAAAAVM/IzoPeQ3g1KI/s400/n532875387_2002740_5237710.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've decided, I'm going to stop for a bit, to the series of postings in my mind. There's a very good reason as you'll see...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But first of all, I want to say a huge big thanks to everyone who has read and dropped e-mails you've all been very nice. I'm going to break fro a while as I will be in Colorado for 2, weeks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will try to post from there that's if I can or have the time. (I don't take pic's so don't expect any above). My postings of the great Danielle,( The star) have been very successful thanks to all of you. I have fun reading through all the comments left behind, and I'm thrilled that the series &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE WITH &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;MORRISSEY&lt;/span&gt;, AND YOU" has been such a success. So much so, I'm all for repeating it when I get back and in 2010.....2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you very much MARY, JESSICA, JAKE, SAMANTHA... sorry I cant thank all by name but, trust me I will never forget all your e-mails...I will see you all soon. and remember if there is someone you love never give up. To what you believe is eternal happiness....God bless and take care I'll see &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yall&lt;/span&gt; in 2-3 weeks....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"KIND AND GENEROUS"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've been so kind and generous, I don't know how you keep on giving &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For your kindness I'm in debt to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For your selflessness, my admiration&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For everything you've done, you know I'm bound, I'm bound to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;thank you for it.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've been so kind and generous, I don't know how you keep on giving&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For your kindness I'm in debt to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I never could have come this far without you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For everything you've done, you know I'm bound, I'm bound to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;thank you for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to thank you for so many gifts you gave with love and tenderness,I wanna thank you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to thank you for your generosity, the love and the honesty that you gave me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to thank you, show my gratitude, my love and my respect for you,I wanna thank you Oh I want to thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-741431153670375039?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/741431153670375039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/741431153670375039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-decided-im-going-to-stop-for-bit-to.html' title='THANK YOU ALL......#61'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiSa_wBN9rI/AAAAAAAAAVM/IzoPeQ3g1KI/s72-c/n532875387_2002740_5237710.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1645147657339737723</id><published>2009-06-01T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T04:42:33.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GOODBYE......#60</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiO4arxc7gI/AAAAAAAAAVE/AwfPJvcaTPI/s1600-h/morrissey_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342316351557791234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiO4arxc7gI/AAAAAAAAAVE/AwfPJvcaTPI/s400/morrissey_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life is an Endless writing of me saying Danielle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life is what I always thought it would be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what's left for me now is a Goodbye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is what's left for me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At one time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The dream it gave me the hope to go on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now the dream stretches behind me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have failed to make you mine &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To make you happy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To make you the one of a kind &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To print you in the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And all of the best things in life and what it can give&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are behind a reality glass&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Money, love, jewelry, happiness and flesh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what's left for me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's left for me now is a GOODBYE.................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used MORRISSEY, in every way I could for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because you are the one I knew I could never have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even when I thought I did have a chance I knew I didn't&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I got stuck, I loved it you will forever be in me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In so many ways&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never thought of you as SEX. you spoke in other words to me. I just wanted you to be happy, to be loved, to be pain free, to just be you. Use this as your guide to love if someone can do better than this then I will be your best NEVER WAS, But if they fail I will be your best WHAT IF?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Good luck ANGEL, I know one day you will find what you're looking for in life. If not you know I will be here. As long as god gives me life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate goodbye's so we'll just call it "I'll see you on the next MORRISSEY, show."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Till then always, JAY...................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. I made it to 60, of them one day I'll reach 1,000,000&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next world, we'll be very happy..........I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1645147657339737723?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1645147657339737723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1645147657339737723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/06/goodbye60.html' title='GOODBYE......#60'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiO4arxc7gI/AAAAAAAAAVE/AwfPJvcaTPI/s72-c/morrissey_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3622117710504652263</id><published>2009-05-30T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T23:29:34.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M INLOVE WITH MORRISSEY, AND YOU......#59</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiIhVtu-QmI/AAAAAAAAAU8/gQW3NCXgyPI/s1600-h/MorrisseyRoysKeen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341868764952412770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiIhVtu-QmI/AAAAAAAAAU8/gQW3NCXgyPI/s400/MorrisseyRoysKeen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't believe its that day of the week already.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today's offering goes back to 1997 and I was waiting to buy Maladjusted. was the second single to be taken off the LP Maladjusted. Unusually for a Morrissey single, he's nowhere to be seen on the cover - instead its a 1950s photo in a London street (I have to be honest when I bought the CD single that it thought the photo had been taken in the 1970s.....)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But there is a snap of the great man himself inside, looking as handsome as ever in a grey checked jacket and white shirt, leaning against an old juke-box.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reason I'm saying so much about the sleeve is that I really don't have all that much to offer about the actual single which I reckon is one of the poorest and dullest he's ever released. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No tune to speak off and a rather lame lyric that relies totally on a pun. In fact, given there's no promo video for the song, I'm guessing there was more enthusiasm from the record company than Morrissey himself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can just imagine some executive thinking.... 'maybe all those Manchester United fans will think its about one of their players....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey - Roy's Keen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey - Lost&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey - The Edges Are No Longer Parallel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know there's quite a few fans that love the song Lost, but I think that Danielle, as the cover sleeve would have given Morrissey, a top ten just for the cover, and not a just OK - it would have made it hard for You Are The Quarry some 7 years later to dominate ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy SUNDAY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3622117710504652263?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3622117710504652263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3622117710504652263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-sunday-im-inlove-with-morrissey-and.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M INLOVE WITH MORRISSEY, AND YOU......#59'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiIhVtu-QmI/AAAAAAAAAU8/gQW3NCXgyPI/s72-c/MorrisseyRoysKeen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3546119341763772464</id><published>2009-05-30T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T20:13:03.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MORRISSEY, GIRL.......#58</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiH1uhBTfDI/AAAAAAAAAU0/lzjhJK_E_go/s1600-h/morrissey-grp1-0504.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341820812524747826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 271px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiH1uhBTfDI/AAAAAAAAAU0/lzjhJK_E_go/s400/morrissey-grp1-0504.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brown eye Danielle, L.A. lady, crazy for MORRISSEY, Pretty smile, New York style, you'll marry a MORRISSEY, man singing, I must have seen her dancing in the show And now she's in me, always with me, singing MORRISSEY, in my heart&lt;br /&gt;I freaks out in the street Handing pictures out of her God is happy Turning back she just laughs She knows she made a dream&lt;br /&gt;MORRISSEY, man I make my stand In the MORRISSEY, show she's Looking at me she sings the song The words she knows, the tune she loves&lt;br /&gt;But now this feels so real Danielle, here with no one near Only me, and I can hear her When she says softly, slowly "I loved you all my life, you made me happy in thios world."&lt;br /&gt;Danielle, MORRISSEY, lady,&lt;br /&gt;Hold me closer Danielle, my MORRISSEY, dancer We'll count the stars on the sky Lay you down in sheets of MORRISSEY, of me you had a GORGEOUS life.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3546119341763772464?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3546119341763772464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3546119341763772464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/morrissey-girl58.html' title='MORRISSEY, GIRL.......#58'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiH1uhBTfDI/AAAAAAAAAU0/lzjhJK_E_go/s72-c/morrissey-grp1-0504.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-2157624475695099861</id><published>2009-05-29T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T16:27:52.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk on.......#57</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBt_4GprjI/AAAAAAAAAUk/PaWGPgFnoSc/s1600-h/482237574_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 278px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341390102220877362" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBt_4GprjI/AAAAAAAAAUk/PaWGPgFnoSc/s400/482237574_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And love is not the easy thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only baggage that you can bring...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And love is not the easy thing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only baggage you can bring &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is all that you can't leave behind &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if the darkness is to keep us apart &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if your glass heart should crack &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for a second you turn back Oh no, be strong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walk on, walk on &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What you got they can't steal it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No they can't even feel it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walk on, walk on...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stay safe tonight &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A place that has to be believed to be seen &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You could have flown away &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A singing bird in an open cage &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who will only fly, only fly for freedom &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walk on, walk on &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What you've got they can't deny it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't sell it, or buy it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walk on, walk on &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stay safe tonight &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know it aches &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And your heart it breaks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you can only take so much &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Home... hard to know what it is if you've never had one &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Home... I can't say where it is but I know I'm going home &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's where t&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBuEOu_oDI/AAAAAAAAAUs/9R9eLMwfMDw/s1600-h/l_dc357a0fe68c4833866eea3ef222027c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341390177015144498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBuEOu_oDI/AAAAAAAAAUs/9R9eLMwfMDw/s400/l_dc357a0fe68c4833866eea3ef222027c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;he hurt is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it aches How your heart it breaks &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you can only take so much &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Leave it behind You got to leave it behind &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you fashion &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you make &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you build &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you break &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you measure &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you feel &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All this you can leave behind &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you reason&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you sense &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that you speak&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All you dress-up All that you scheme...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-2157624475695099861?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2157624475695099861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2157624475695099861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/walk-on57.html' title='Walk on.......#57'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBt_4GprjI/AAAAAAAAAUk/PaWGPgFnoSc/s72-c/482237574_l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7338995555132552644</id><published>2009-05-29T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:25:47.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SOMETIMES WE ASK WHY?????.....#56</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBo0GIe7fI/AAAAAAAAAUc/mJoJV_8CX_k/s1600-h/moz19uv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 316px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341384402270088690" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBo0GIe7fI/AAAAAAAAAUc/mJoJV_8CX_k/s400/moz19uv.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;R.E.M. – Country Feedback: My friend's son has cancer. They are in hospital on the ward. He has just come back from neurosurgery for his brain tumour (his second in under a month). It is his last chance. But it could leave him blind, paralysed; who knows only god,. The mix of fear and hope and trying not to have too much of either. I can’t sleep. I’ve been playing R.E.M. a lot. But this is the track that counts. The knotted tight emotions. The feeling that no-one else can understand. Like sex and drugs and alcohol, you just can’t adequately explain how watching your child die in your care and you can't do nothing about it over a protracted period feels to those who haven’t gone through it. And anger below the surface. I’m not normally good at hearing lyrics but the words “We've been through fake-a-breakdown, Self hurt, Plastics, Co&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBoqf58G9I/AAAAAAAAAUU/GG-fuxRkFHk/s1600-h/l_159a700ed66f8d3bb4dee275f7b6028a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341384237389716434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBoqf58G9I/AAAAAAAAAUU/GG-fuxRkFHk/s400/l_159a700ed66f8d3bb4dee275f7b6028a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;llections, Self help, self pain, EST, psychics, fuck all” express it all. The anger at the religious who in their pity will pray for you. The anger at the New Angers who will cure with crystals and incantation. The unutterable sadness from the repeated refrain of “It's crazy what you could've had”. Knowing that he's dying. Knowing I am right. And hating myself for it. Life and it's ways at times we can only hope. Only god, knows how and why.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7338995555132552644?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7338995555132552644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7338995555132552644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/sometinmes-we-ask-why56.html' title='SOMETIMES WE ASK WHY?????.....#56'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SiBo0GIe7fI/AAAAAAAAAUc/mJoJV_8CX_k/s72-c/moz19uv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-2845912170460623125</id><published>2009-05-28T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T20:08:52.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEVER GET OLD.....#55</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh9Q3xDDFOI/AAAAAAAAAUM/mVRvFZR-GEU/s1600-h/normal_mURI_temp_ea3ce0d5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 384px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 350px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341076602073847010" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh9Q3xDDFOI/AAAAAAAAAUM/mVRvFZR-GEU/s400/normal_mURI_temp_ea3ce0d5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better take care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think I better go, better get a room&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better take care of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again and again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think about this and I think about personal history&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better take care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I breathe so deep when the movie gets real&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the star turns round&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again and again&lt;br /&gt;He looks me in the eye says he's got his mind on a countdown 3-2-1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm screaming that I'm gonna be living on till&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the end of time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sky splits open to a dull red skull&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My head hangs low 'cause it's all over now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there's never gonna be enough money&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there's never gonna be enough drugs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's never gonna be enough bullets&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's never gonna be enough sex&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm never ever gonna get high&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get low&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better take care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The moon flows on to the edges of the world because of you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again and again&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh9QyU4qCXI/AAAAAAAAAUE/Q-U6SxR2QSI/s1600-h/l_dcc9fc1b687f2b70d7026b73fce86630.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 395px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341076508614723954" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh9QyU4qCXI/AAAAAAAAAUE/Q-U6SxR2QSI/s400/l_dcc9fc1b687f2b70d7026b73fce86630.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm awake in an age of light living it because of you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better take care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm looking at the future solid as a rock because of you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again and again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wanna be here and I wanna be there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Living just like you, living just like me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Putting on my gloves and bury my bones in the marshland&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think about my soul but I don't need a thing just the ring of the bell in the pure clean air&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm running down the street of life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never gonna let you die&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm never ever gonna get&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm never ever gonna get old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm never ever gonna get&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never ever gonna get old...................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-2845912170460623125?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2845912170460623125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2845912170460623125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/never-get-old55.html' title='NEVER GET OLD.....#55'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh9Q3xDDFOI/AAAAAAAAAUM/mVRvFZR-GEU/s72-c/normal_mURI_temp_ea3ce0d5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-846565941525933675</id><published>2009-05-28T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T16:56:09.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I CAN'T NEVER ASK FOR MORE.....#54</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh8kIv9gB3I/AAAAAAAAAT0/3PZqmg5TpSE/s1600-h/06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341027415816669042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh8kIv9gB3I/AAAAAAAAAT0/3PZqmg5TpSE/s400/06.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gazing at the stars in a dark cold night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uttering sweet words beneath pale moonlight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish you can see I wish you can hear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish you can kiss and hold me tight&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes and shed those tears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thinking how far you are from me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I look above and see the stars How they light, they glitter and sparkle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite how far they are by sight&lt;br /&gt;I find myself smiling as I realize That though distance between us&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kept us apart but only in body And never in heart&lt;br /&gt;You gave me reason to smile You gave me &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh8kMaWcCMI/AAAAAAAAAT8/w0XSpmCVZaM/s1600-h/n518965874_432848_1898.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 321px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341027478735161538" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh8kMaWcCMI/AAAAAAAAAT8/w0XSpmCVZaM/s400/n518965874_432848_1898.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;reason to hope&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You gave me so much and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can never ask for more&lt;br /&gt;And if I have one thing to thank right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's when you came into my life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-846565941525933675?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/846565941525933675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/846565941525933675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-cant-never-ask-for-more54.html' title='I CAN&apos;T NEVER ASK FOR MORE.....#54'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh8kIv9gB3I/AAAAAAAAAT0/3PZqmg5TpSE/s72-c/06.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1937203895970938647</id><published>2009-05-27T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T18:44:03.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT HERE NOW AND THEN....#53</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh3rnTxp7vI/AAAAAAAAATk/FhM8c-odkac/s1600-h/bwhotpress.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 285px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340683793687244530" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh3rnTxp7vI/AAAAAAAAATk/FhM8c-odkac/s400/bwhotpress.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel yours inside of mine,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Together they beat as one Keeping perfect time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hear yours inside of mine,Our chance to be together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The beat says it's nearly time.With every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that yours does to,And every time it pumps&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I'm feeling you.With every beat of my heart&lt;br /&gt;I listen close to what it says,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hear yours calling mine And it knows it must obey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel mine loving you, And with every beat of yours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh3rr0LDJbI/AAAAAAAAATs/zwAfiR-PVmQ/s1600-h/l_b7f3065b74c44d5893ea7de964df130f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 295px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340683871103165874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh3rr0LDJbI/AAAAAAAAATs/zwAfiR-PVmQ/s400/l_b7f3065b74c44d5893ea7de964df130f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;know you love me too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It hurts when you say good bye, And with every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drops another tear I cry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss you all the more,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The beat grows ever louder Until it's like a thunderous roar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For with every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inside I feel the pain, Right now mine beats alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm missing you again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With every beat of my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need yours here to stay, For I miss you all the more Every time you go away..............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1937203895970938647?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1937203895970938647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1937203895970938647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-heart-skips-beat-here-now-and-then53.html' title='MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT HERE NOW AND THEN....#53'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sh3rnTxp7vI/AAAAAAAAATk/FhM8c-odkac/s72-c/bwhotpress.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8762312429919680661</id><published>2009-05-26T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T19:12:16.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY HEART TO YOUR HEART.....#52</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShygIcZvyDI/AAAAAAAAATc/sR_oEgUFAuQ/s1600-h/Morrissey-All-You-Need-Is-M-434476.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340319325078145074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShygIcZvyDI/AAAAAAAAATc/sR_oEgUFAuQ/s400/Morrissey-All-You-Need-Is-M-434476.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you remember when you felt in love for the first time?Felt like you on top of the world Not thinking if one day you'll fall Oh no, don't say its true,&lt;br /&gt;Well I got this message from the real world You're happy, was he happy too?You loved him in all his needed love I stand in details following you&lt;br /&gt;The cry of your heart is killing me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I write a new chapter Just pictures of Danielle,I ain't got much and I ain't gonna hurt you I'm hoping to where you stand but the real world stops me half way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart to your heart, searching for us I know one day we will be in love So strung right in each other's love Hitting our all-time high&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time as to time and again I tell myself Ill stay away from you But the little brown eyes are all I see Oh no, not again I'm stuck with a valuable blog I'm so happy, hope you're happy too One plus two plus one no smoking to start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never done this before&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShygDYsAQGI/AAAAAAAAATU/JOqiWaREMp4/s1600-h/l_f7c021e3c3e2e5f3ac071c3933d1c09e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 423px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340319238181634146" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShygDYsAQGI/AAAAAAAAATU/JOqiWaREMp4/s400/l_f7c021e3c3e2e5f3ac071c3933d1c09e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; done bad things&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't just like you out of the blue,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Want a kiss to break the door Wanna come in right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart to your heart, searching for us I know one day we will be in love So strung right in each other's love Hitting our all-time high To never hit down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mother said to not get a broken heart you better stay away from Danielle................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8762312429919680661?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8762312429919680661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8762312429919680661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-heart-to-your-heart52.html' title='MY HEART TO YOUR HEART.....#52'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShygIcZvyDI/AAAAAAAAATc/sR_oEgUFAuQ/s72-c/Morrissey-All-You-Need-Is-M-434476.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7561743407000990197</id><published>2009-05-26T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T17:07:16.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IF OUR LOVE SONG CAN FLY OVER MOUNTAINS......#51</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShyDNbZAEwI/AAAAAAAAATE/ewJMEEO_sXs/s1600-h/morrisseyx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 245px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 369px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340287524868723458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShyDNbZAEwI/AAAAAAAAATE/ewJMEEO_sXs/s400/morrisseyx.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somewhere in my dreams&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hear your voice Whispering gently....into thin air At the edge of the mountain I close my eyes Sensing your breathing...feeling you appear there On the edge of my dreams &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see your face A twin soul......when we share eyes At the edge of the mountain I catch my breath Touching our finger tips...mouth goes dry In the shadows of my dreams &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I taste your lips So soft against mine like a warm rain At the edge of the mountain my heart slows Sharing our every breath....two hearts don't refrain In the deepest part of my dreams &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel your touch Breathless....from the warmth of your skin At the edge of the mountain I open my eyes Seeing only clouds....feeling.... within On the edge of my dreams is where I want to stay It's there...I'm forever in your arms...safe...sound At the edge of the mountain &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll remain breathless For me.....no greater love will ever be found &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will you always be there on the edge of my dreams?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will you always meet me to the edge of the mountain?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will wait for you...be there for you....always.&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340287580344365362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShyDQqDbMTI/AAAAAAAAATM/Qid1u6w3U3Q/s400/l_9fc4e68262256d5aebb81f5368b76ea0.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7561743407000990197?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7561743407000990197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7561743407000990197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/if-our-love-song-can-fly-over.html' title='IF OUR LOVE SONG CAN FLY OVER MOUNTAINS......#51'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShyDNbZAEwI/AAAAAAAAATE/ewJMEEO_sXs/s72-c/morrisseyx.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4943503617526571440</id><published>2009-05-25T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T13:54:14.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE GENERATION.........#50</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shr_OANHsHI/AAAAAAAAASs/wLJSpCpww7U/s1600-h/album-you-are-the-quarry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339860924239425650" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shr_OANHsHI/AAAAAAAAASs/wLJSpCpww7U/s400/album-you-are-the-quarry.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Danielle is one of the most beloved and enduring success stories in modern life, writing world-conquering anthems of love, lust and longing since 1984. In over two decades with the world, Danielle has stolen more than 15 million hearts around the globe, proving herself master of every kind of love from human symphonies to unplugged ballads.&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes and smile to take you away! she was released to the world as a special Angel-like a MORRISSEY disc deluxe edition which includes every good song he has ever writing! (re-mastered since its original release), Danielle!, a live soul and a woman featuring everything I ever wanted in a woman, ranging from her hair on Top of her head to her toes I can't ever ask for more.&lt;br /&gt;It's safe to say that Danielle, single-handedly &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShsFX4FRWEI/AAAAAAAAAS8/8nx_wfspCgY/s1600-h/1235272809899.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 192px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339867690927478850" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShsFX4FRWEI/AAAAAAAAAS8/8nx_wfspCgY/s400/1235272809899.jpeg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;persuaded my hearty lust for smart, danceable soul-lovely music. This compilation of a girl is a must-own for any soul. And if you were to take it from me, well, that would just be un - delightful and I would hunt you down for the rest of my life....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am the quarry, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4943503617526571440?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4943503617526571440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4943503617526571440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/love-generation50.html' title='LOVE GENERATION.........#50'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shr_OANHsHI/AAAAAAAAASs/wLJSpCpww7U/s72-c/album-you-are-the-quarry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3686019652764592804</id><published>2009-05-24T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T13:41:32.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#49</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShmlVwXDWmI/AAAAAAAAASc/lpW_167TMjo/s1600-h/Morrissey-Youre-The-One-For-113116.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339480626401860194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShmlVwXDWmI/AAAAAAAAASc/lpW_167TMjo/s400/Morrissey-Youre-The-One-For-113116.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember back in '97' when I had my first summer job, getting my first check and cashing it. I walk straight to the record store that day. To buy my first Morrissey, cd with my own money the album was "Your Arsenal" and aslo The single taken from Your Arsenal it surely contains one of the laziest in my opinion ever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey lyrics:-&lt;br /&gt;"You're the one for me, fatty You're the one I really, really love And I will stay Promise you'll say If I'm in your way"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All over Battersea Some hope and some despair &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShsCXCy25vI/AAAAAAAAAS0/S9JZsr1fKE4/s1600-h/10-04-08_1855.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339864378088285938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShsCXCy25vI/AAAAAAAAAS0/S9JZsr1fKE4/s400/10-04-08_1855.jpeg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repeated umpteen times with the occasional Buddy Holly impressions(a-hey) thrown in for padding.&lt;br /&gt;It played the album everyday for three weeks straight and had me a bit worried about how it was all going to turn out. As it was, Fatty was one of the poorest tracks on the LP and was soon a candidate for frequent use of the skip button on the CD player. But somehow It was the first track I'd turn to.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes disappointing singles get rescued by decent tracks on the b-side, but sadly these efforts are quite forgettable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morrissey - You're The One For Me, Fatty &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey - Pashernate Love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morrissey - There Speaks A True Friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least the cover was a cracker.....another Linder Sterling photo taken at a concert in Chicago in 1991.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But my opinions weren't shared by the general public....it was a single that climbed higher in the charts than any of those taken from Kill Uncle, hitting #19 in July 1992. I knew this thanks to the hip and worth watching MTV at the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having said that, I was not going to leave Danielle, behind looking at the great face so many want to interview. This week I promote her as the best new LP, maybe all of us should sing her favorite track at the forthcoming concerts........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Sunday of so many Sundays, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3686019652764592804?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3686019652764592804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3686019652764592804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_24.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#49'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShmlVwXDWmI/AAAAAAAAASc/lpW_167TMjo/s72-c/Morrissey-Youre-The-One-For-113116.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4127754892245123241</id><published>2009-05-23T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T17:21:40.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HOW COULD ANYBODY POSSIBLY KNOW HOW I FEEL........#48</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShivJgChwlI/AAAAAAAAASU/XTbq-JmKv3o/s1600-h/bg.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 385px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 346px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339209936001942098" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShivJgChwlI/AAAAAAAAASU/XTbq-JmKv3o/s400/bg.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How would anyone know of the love I have for you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The one that burns so steady and true. Should I be silent be still and never say a word,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And not let this beautiful message be heard.&lt;br /&gt;Or instead should I shout it out loud,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The love I have for you of which I'm so proud. Any man would give all he is worth,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To have a love like this while here on earth.&lt;br /&gt;Should I let the world know how I feel,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So everyone will realize it is indeed real. Are there others in this world my love who feel as I do,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But don't have the words to help them get through.&lt;br /&gt;You and I still walk our own way every night,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShnkVw4Zy4I/AAAAAAAAASk/1S2M8tMGym8/s1600-h/l_fd2225567922428b101ab445f6e0b14e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339549895774292866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShnkVw4Zy4I/AAAAAAAAASk/1S2M8tMGym8/s400/l_fd2225567922428b101ab445f6e0b14e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Either our fingers entwined or you holding me tight. The kisses still mean so very much to me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your hands, your soft and sensual touch. You see these feelings never go away Mrs. Danielle,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't matter if you turn old and gray to me.&lt;br /&gt;Would you look at me when I have passed away, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And ask How did I feel, I don't know she never did ask. Well, I will not be silent until the end,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're my Angel, my lover and my best friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have been in me for an eternity, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it still burns so brightly for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4127754892245123241?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4127754892245123241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4127754892245123241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-could-anybody-possibly-know-how-i.html' title='HOW COULD ANYBODY POSSIBLY KNOW HOW I FEEL........#48'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShivJgChwlI/AAAAAAAAASU/XTbq-JmKv3o/s72-c/bg.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8315795521612755576</id><published>2009-05-22T16:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T17:14:01.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MORRISSEY'S BIRTHDAY...........#47</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-z2vFEdI/AAAAAAAAARk/qpOcC3anrQo/s1600-h/balabanov.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338804943858242002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-z2vFEdI/AAAAAAAAARk/qpOcC3anrQo/s400/balabanov.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dearest M&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-J9nRvsI/AAAAAAAAARE/matOnNxiGO8/s1600-h/0cf51e98.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 100px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338804224150060738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-J9nRvsI/AAAAAAAAARE/matOnNxiGO8/s400/0cf51e98.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;orrissey,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have been the most influential figure in my life. You have all the qualities of a true worldly icon- genius, beauty, style, intelligence, g&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc_VL8eB0I/AAAAAAAAAR0/fV0QWv9b4M8/s1600-h/n518965874_1016467_9015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 155px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338805516487231298" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc_VL8eB0I/AAAAAAAAAR0/fV0QWv9b4M8/s400/n518965874_1016467_9015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;race, humility, well timed aggressive delivery, recognition of past influences, brilliance, poet, savior, voice, etc.... Your life is yours and rightly only yours, but has positively impacted so many, including my own. 50 years is infancy for you. Your meaning and words and life do and will always stand as immortal. Thank you for all you have given to my mind, body, soul and emotional being. Words will never due justice of your worth to humanity. Those who have yet to be graced by your godliness, may they soon&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-kTHqfeI/AAAAAAAAARc/ZXziw_sdCvs/s1600-h/238933166_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 100px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338804676599643618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-kTHqfeI/AAAAAAAAARc/ZXziw_sdCvs/s400/238933166_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; see the light. Here's to you and the hope of seeing you again soon, even if only from standing room only floor space. I hold my glass up high and cheers in your honor!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;May your best wishes be fulfilled,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your fan of many fans, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this letter and loved every pice of it;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I turned 40, I wanted to hide, and well, now, 50 seems so natural. Like it’s not a big deal. After it hit me, the big 4-0.But you, Morrissey, my baby, well I’d like to say 50 - Mmmmm. You don’t look it. By no means. No way. No how. Nope, as a matter of fact, you look like you are in your thirties.Because the world we live in, it’s sooo shallow, superficial, which is why I mention it. Isn’t it ... But to me, and I’m not speaking for the world, which is so shallow. To me ... I love you no matter what yor age, or what you look like. Whether yor 50, 68, 75, 52, 99. Because I love "you", the whole package.The fact that yor beautiful and skinny at 50. Well, these are just the facts. You are, yep. But, even if you looked old, like soooo many other singers in their 40s and 50s, then I’d say it. But you don't -- you look drop dead gorgeous. Because, I am a no nonsense type of a person. I say the truth. I keep it real.But you have to understand something, you, you ... Well, when I first encountered The Smiths in college in the mid to late 80s and then when my first bf who gave me Louder Than Bombs, and then my first supervisor at my first job who I told I love&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc_IM9Ba6I/AAAAAAAAARs/LL8E2EPn2JU/s1600-h/n518965874_590449_238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338805293419686818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc_IM9Ba6I/AAAAAAAAARs/LL8E2EPn2JU/s400/n518965874_590449_238.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d Girlfriend in a Coma to, well he made me his own compilation with Girlfriend in a Coma. I never even knew what you looked like, not really, ya know. So this was years that I loved you, before, BEFORE I knew what you "really" looked like (in specifications). So, if I saw you in the streets in the 80s, I wouldn’t have known “that’s Morrissey “. Or Johnny Marr for that matter. I loved you before I knew what you looked like. Bottom line.I don’t know why after all these years, I started to see you in a different light. Rewind -- actually, I do. And in a different&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-Re-_bGI/AAAAAAAAARM/rXr8cVkzzvw/s1600-h/6cb837cd.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 100px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338804353366977634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-Re-_bGI/AAAAAAAAARM/rXr8cVkzzvw/s400/6cb837cd.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; way, ways. And then, at PA, NJ, ... and most importantly ... that casino in Mashantucket. Foxwoods. Oh - My - God.I have something else to say. “I”, I did mean all of those syrupy, sentimental, things, that, I said... Mmmmm Hmmmm all of my messages from around 2000. And ... Yesterrrrdaaaay. Isn’t it.And after all these years, I still do. That’s right, and it’ll continue. I keep my word.Thanks for always being there for me. I’ll always be here for you. Every little surprise you gave me, well I want you to know ... none of them were unnoticed. They meant everything to me, and they still do. This also shall continue. I have this feeling, I can’t explain it, the “connection”.Happy Birthday Baaaay--Beeee. I Love You Sooooo Much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8315795521612755576?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8315795521612755576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8315795521612755576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/morrisseys-birthday.html' title='MORRISSEY&apos;S BIRTHDAY...........#47'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shc-z2vFEdI/AAAAAAAAARk/qpOcC3anrQo/s72-c/balabanov.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1005909671276968825</id><published>2009-05-21T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T19:16:06.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ALL I SEE.....#46</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShXXtJWMo7I/AAAAAAAAAQs/f3lWmO2Dt6Y/s1600-h/n532875387_2002727_3142353.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338410103920698290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShXXtJWMo7I/AAAAAAAAAQs/f3lWmO2Dt6Y/s400/n532875387_2002727_3142353.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my eyes are close I am wrapped up in your arms,&lt;br /&gt;I feel safer than ever before.&lt;br /&gt;When you stare into my eyes, its a feeling I can't ignore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know this isn't just a game,because, what I feel for you,&lt;br /&gt;I never felt with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;When I am close to you I am overwhelmed with happiness.You're what I've been waiting for my whole life.&lt;br /&gt;You're someone I can share my love with,&lt;br /&gt;you take away my fears.Words can't express how much I love you.&lt;br /&gt;But, through this short amount of time,&lt;br /&gt;I hope you realize that my love for you is real.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not just saying this to play games,&lt;br /&gt;and I can only hope you feel the same.&lt;br /&gt;With you, is where I want to be because I found someone who loves things I love.&lt;br /&gt;You give me all the reason in the world to believe that you won't hurt me and I won't hurt you in anyway.&lt;br /&gt;And if I ever lost you,&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I would do.You probably think I am crazy,but truthfully I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;Every time that were together,&lt;br /&gt;it's a whole new experience for me.&lt;br /&gt;All I see in this world, &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShdcIFNJFDI/AAAAAAAAASM/ei70kWBqAHQ/s1600-h/l_d754fd859bdb97eb7e64318fd709e6d7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338837177177019442" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShdcIFNJFDI/AAAAAAAAASM/ei70kWBqAHQ/s400/l_d754fd859bdb97eb7e64318fd709e6d7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is no one else but you and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORRISSEY'S B-DAY IS TOMORROW, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1005909671276968825?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1005909671276968825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1005909671276968825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/all-i-see46.html' title='ALL I SEE.....#46'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShXXtJWMo7I/AAAAAAAAAQs/f3lWmO2Dt6Y/s72-c/n532875387_2002727_3142353.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3800413224418535606</id><published>2009-05-20T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T19:14:34.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ALMOST THERE.....#45</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShSYEc1BSMI/AAAAAAAAAQc/v2PY4dc2Ij4/s1600-h/morrisseyHairstyle-coolmenshair_com.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 405px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338058660566354114" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShSYEc1BSMI/AAAAAAAAAQc/v2PY4dc2Ij4/s400/morrisseyHairstyle-coolmenshair_com.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I see your smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My pain goes away My heart's filled with joy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rest of the day &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you speak to me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know not what to say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mind all goes blank All I can get out is "Hey" and "To hang out with you"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Would be my heart's desire It would light up my spirits&lt;br /&gt;Like gas on a fire But I can't show my love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't show you the truth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't explain how I've felt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shdbxtw4rWI/AAAAAAAAASE/M1q8LQeB16k/s1600-h/n518965874_468641_4717.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338836792927366498" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Shdbxtw4rWI/AAAAAAAAASE/M1q8LQeB16k/s400/n518965874_468641_4717.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ever since my youth &lt;div&gt;Cuz you love another&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That I see clearly Another cares for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I do, so dearly So I sit and I wait To see you again I wait just to hear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How your day's been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd love to tell you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That I'll admit But a simple conversation Is as close as I get.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Miss. Monroe, I'm so into you, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3800413224418535606?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3800413224418535606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3800413224418535606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/almost-there44.html' title='ALMOST THERE.....#45'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShSYEc1BSMI/AAAAAAAAAQc/v2PY4dc2Ij4/s72-c/morrisseyHairstyle-coolmenshair_com.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-2305207820056736132</id><published>2009-05-19T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T19:12:33.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAT WORDS CAN DESCRIBE.........#44</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShNVBmeUJlI/AAAAAAAAAQM/IhsN84N9xfc/s1600-h/613x600mrmorrissey2prev1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337703469360096850" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShNVBmeUJlI/AAAAAAAAAQM/IhsN84N9xfc/s400/613x600mrmorrissey2prev1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like the mist of morning, like the calm of night, Where there is magic, nature reveals destinies plight, I long to hold you, to be with you near, But my heart aches as my dreams echo your mystic magic whispering in my ear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can a woman be so majestic and so infinitely true? The truth is my love, I have only ever desired one such as you. What words can describe your beauty? What pen dare attempt to replicate in thought and paper the gift of love you inherently possess - The essence of your eyes, the redolence of your lips, The feminism of your style, the magic your heart beats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love, in my own despair, My heart longs for this feeling which can be found nowhere. This mystic power which hypnotises my reason, Can only give way to my confidences treason.&lt;br /&gt;How long I have melted beneath your radiant magic, ... please my dear love, don't end our fate tragic, If promises are promises and my honour your trusts virtue, Never doubt my sincerity, for I could never hurt you, And if wishes are only wishes which can never come true, Then don't wish for anything for my sincerity is for you, And if my honesty is not as pure as the gold that you think, Then allow me to unravel Love's power with the blessing of your wink.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShdbhI38a8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/8Z3f2fOjzbY/s1600-h/l_3765aa18471ba2bea2e625605f3b3f14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338836508146953154" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShdbhI38a8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/8Z3f2fOjzbY/s400/l_3765aa18471ba2bea2e625605f3b3f14.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! If only you were to grasp the extent my imagination portrays you for, Your sweet love is my desire, I can ask for no more, My sweet love, you will never find a heart more true, My only desire is your absent days fewer, From my soul cries a message so loud and so clear, I only want to be with you - in my arms hold you near, Please take my hand and I'll comfort you dear, Love builds on love and truly casts out all of fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes my mind dries up this passion of hope so true, My dear love, I have insecurities of my chances with you, I have dreams of your rose lips, your perfect window eyes, Oh my sweet nightingale, what have you to hide?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you love me then blast this trumpet of fate, The direction our love enters we will architect, and destiny a new dimension take. I cannot sleep at nights wondering why I love you so, I pray God grant me strength as to let my wisdom grow, For many times I've pondered whether you feel the magicians blessing so strong, It can make mortals lovers and lovers can do no immortal wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I am certain, this I promise you now, Of my sincerity and loyalty, none can ever match the beauty of your brow, So take my hand my dear and together we'll reach out to the mystery above, For we have the blessing of our fate, as you are my one and only true love..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If only right? Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-2305207820056736132?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2305207820056736132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2305207820056736132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-words-can-describe44.html' title='WHAT WORDS CAN DESCRIBE.........#44'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShNVBmeUJlI/AAAAAAAAAQM/IhsN84N9xfc/s72-c/613x600mrmorrissey2prev1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8471982780987445070</id><published>2009-05-18T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T17:27:53.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LETTER TO DANIELLE......#43</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShHnuoi9JNI/AAAAAAAAAP0/fF2WW0UEbbM/s1600-h/moz4587.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337301821754778834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShHnuoi9JNI/AAAAAAAAAP0/fF2WW0UEbbM/s400/moz4587.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The hand that wrote this letter Sweeps the pillow clean So rest your head and read a treasured dream I care for no one else but you I tear my soul to cease the pain I think maybe you feel the same What can we do? I'm not quite sure what we're supposed to do So I've been writing just for you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;They say your life is going very well They say you sparkle like a different girl But something tells me that you hide When all the world is warm and tired You cry a little in the dark Well so do i I'm not quite sure what you're supposed to say But I can see it's not okay He makes you laugh He brings you out in style He treats you well And makes you up real fine And w&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShXxgKbedrI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/K9cyphlF-Xc/s1600-h/l_d243212357aaaaa8edeb2941c48b146d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338438468175296178" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShXxgKbedrI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/K9cyphlF-Xc/s400/l_d243212357aaaaa8edeb2941c48b146d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hen he's strong He's strong for you And when you kiss It's something new But did you ever call my name Just by mistake? I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to do So I'll just write some love to you......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8471982780987445070?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8471982780987445070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8471982780987445070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/letter-to-danielle43.html' title='LETTER TO DANIELLE......#43'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShHnuoi9JNI/AAAAAAAAAP0/fF2WW0UEbbM/s72-c/moz4587.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-2514358451746343892</id><published>2009-05-17T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T16:29:00.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#42</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShBq-2JWBPI/AAAAAAAAAPc/mqNZstt2QnE/s1600-h/morrissey965.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336883186353177842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShBq-2JWBPI/AAAAAAAAAPc/mqNZstt2QnE/s400/morrissey965.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The release of You Are The Quarry in 2004 made for a triumphant comeback, for MORRISSEY, but if anything the pressure on the 2006 follow-up LP Ringleader Of The Tormentors was even more intense as we waited to see if the quality could be maintained.&lt;br /&gt;The new single was only officially made available some 7 days before the LP, but of course was already widely known thanks to regular airings of the video as well as leaked copies being posted on the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;Lyrically, You Have Killed Me is one of the most unusual singles ever released by Morrissey. They drew on the film Accatone, a work released in 1961 and dealing with pimps, prostitutes and thieves living in a rundown part of Rome, and also namechecked other Italian gay film stars (although I'll confess to not knowing any of them before this single was released).&lt;br /&gt;At this point in time, Morrissey was obsessed with Rome, choosing to both live and record the latest LP there. It's a single that I reckon is one of his classiest throughout his long solo career, (my favorite album) although I know a number of fans were disappointed that it was so radio-friendly, thanks to the influence of Jesse Tobias, the new guitarist in Morrissey's band, and co-writer of this single. (Tobias had previously been associated with a number of mainstream American acts). By now no-one could reasonably expect the great man to be churning out pastiches of The Smiths, and in reality, all he was doing was reflecting the sort of music that many of his ageing fans were listening to elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;The b-sides were also qui&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShXjmufoKrI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/0nzfOXwjmfw/s1600-h/n518965874_1111299_1765.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338423187772811954" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShXjmufoKrI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/0nzfOXwjmfw/s400/n518965874_1111299_1765.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;te interesting. One was a near unrecognisable cover of an old track by The New York Dolls, a 70s act that Morrissey had been obsessed with as a teenager, while the two original tracks were similar to the single in sounding polished and rather mainstream.&lt;br /&gt;A fabulous collection of songs if you were prepared to accept it was time for Morrissey to start acting his age....indeed, it could be argued that the two original b-sides are as good as anything that was on the critically acclaimed LP many of us rushed out and bought the following week.&lt;br /&gt;Continuing the theme of The Eternal City, the sleeve shot was taken on railtracks in the Pigneto zone of Rome by Italian photographer Fabio Lovino.&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I meant to also say that You remain one of the great and most successful beautiful girl in this planet, Morrissey's single hitting #3 in May 2006, so that must mean you hit #1 and helped MORRISSEY stay in the top 10 it's great what a picture can do that can land you in as a #1 hit so the top will, read #3 MORRISSEY, #2 DANIELLE, #1 DANIELLE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Sunday. Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-2514358451746343892?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2514358451746343892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2514358451746343892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and_17.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#42'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShBq-2JWBPI/AAAAAAAAAPc/mqNZstt2QnE/s72-c/morrissey965.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7778898901987864748</id><published>2009-05-16T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T17:05:19.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS.....#41</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg-Gu4gno6I/AAAAAAAAAPM/Z5shb0-Oz3M/s1600-h/mozstewart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336632223458632610" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg-Gu4gno6I/AAAAAAAAAPM/Z5shb0-Oz3M/s400/mozstewart.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;You came into my life Quietly, simply, tenderly...The world stood still I could not say a word Nor a single gestured showed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The feeling kept in my heart So close your arm in my chest is my arm Every time you close your eyes I fall asleep.So I've loved you in silence Worshipped you from a distance And dreamt of you so often.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I want to say I Love You,So many words But I'm afraid...Afraid that you'll just take it for granted.In silence then, I'll just love you.In silence I'll find...The fulfillment of my dreams.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Absolute Beginners"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've nothing much to offer There's nothing much to take I'm an absolute beginner And I'm absolutely sane As long as we're together The rest can go to hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely love you But we're absolute beginners &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShSaew6_NeI/AAAAAAAAAQk/PUlN1d8E1mE/s1600-h/l_e130ef981230ff6ae475346f526789f8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 339px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338061311659947490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShSaew6_NeI/AAAAAAAAAQk/PUlN1d8E1mE/s400/l_e130ef981230ff6ae475346f526789f8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With eyes completely open But nervous all the same If our love song Could fly over mountains Could laugh at the ocean Just like the films There's no reason To feel all the hard times To lay down the hard lines It's absolutely true Nothing much could happen Nothing we can't shake Oh we're absolute beginners With nothing much at stake As long as you're still smiling There's nothing more I need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely love you But we're absolute beginners But if my love is your love We're certain to succeed If our love song Could fly over mountains Sail over heartaches Just like the films There's no reason To feel all the hard times To lay down the hard lines It's absolutely true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7778898901987864748?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7778898901987864748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7778898901987864748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-so-proud-of-you41.html' title='ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS.....#41'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg-Gu4gno6I/AAAAAAAAAPM/Z5shb0-Oz3M/s72-c/mozstewart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1071153382427292311</id><published>2009-05-15T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T17:57:51.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THERE IS DANIELLE AND THERE IS DANIELLE.........#40</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg3c8laxJ-I/AAAAAAAAAO8/dFwxuTu8PI8/s1600-h/6034256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336164066898552802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg3c8laxJ-I/AAAAAAAAAO8/dFwxuTu8PI8/s400/6034256.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, it's true. Those who love Danielle and worship her for the soul melting, uplifting, angelic Icelandic goddess that she is. Those who hear her once and instantly hate her. And those who just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;In my experience, Danielle really do seem to be a girl that you either love or hate, which I think is actually a good thing. Surely it's better to inspire a passionate reaction, however negative it may be, than inspire nothing at all. Just think of all those people you come across that are good at what they do, but leave you feeling cold. anyone? (Pun ever so slightly intended).&lt;br /&gt;I think it's fairly obvious which side of the fence I fall on, and seeing Danielle a few moths ago only further cemented her place in my heart. I don't have just one 'favourite' as such, but Danielle inspire more feeling in me than any other girl I have come across in my collection of life. I can't even remember how I came across her, although it would've been some wonderful blogger pointing me in her direction I'm sure. I just wish I could remember who it was, so that I could thank them properly.&lt;br /&gt;The first picture of Danielle, in her albums I came across just blew me away. I had never seen or heard anything that stirred up so much emotion in me. It was inspiring and uplifting and devastating all at once, and I couldn't get enough. I followed it up with her Morrissey, ways and the iconic Smiths, and just when I thought I had this wonderful girl all figured out, she released the stunning Morrissey shirts I'd love to have, and I was once again blown away by her versatility and stunning (largely self-taught!) musicianship of her Morrissey.&lt;br /&gt;While I love every Morrissey song Danielle, loved too (I know I'ts over,Alsatian cousin.) there are the two that are very close to my heart. The first time I saw her I felt something in me. I think it's because she was the first girl I was looking forward to actually seeing. Little did I know as those first words she spoke flowed through my speakers that I was about to hear music of the kind I'd never known before. Too gushy for you? Perhaps it is, but I'd literally heard nothing like this before and was immediately overcome, and I played it again and again, soaking it in and finding something new to marvel at with each listen.&lt;br /&gt;However, as much as I lov&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShNVgSCGEkI/AAAAAAAAAQU/i4MsDu_6Tzo/s1600-h/n518965874_372311_2614.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 328px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337703996448969282" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShNVgSCGEkI/AAAAAAAAAQU/i4MsDu_6Tzo/s400/n518965874_372311_2614.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e Morrissey, it's clear that Danielle, has become my favourite Danielle ever. And if for some horrible, awful, hateful reason I was told that I was only allowed to listen or see her for one last time for the rest of my life, I have a very strong feeling that Danielle, would be the one not Morrissey, I'd choose.&lt;br /&gt;Danielle has never, ever failed to make me feel better when things aren't going so well. This girl will calm me down when nothing else will, and this is going to sound really sappy and silly, but when I'm feeling stressed and all worked up I can literally feel my muscles relax and my breathing slow when Danielle, starts playing. Do you think I'm a lunatic? Perhaps I am, but I can't say I care much when caught up in the beauty of Danielle. And as long as this gorgeous, melting, aching girl exists, I think I'll be ok.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forever, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1071153382427292311?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1071153382427292311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1071153382427292311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/there-is-danielle-and-there-is.html' title='THERE IS DANIELLE AND THERE IS DANIELLE.........#40'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg3c8laxJ-I/AAAAAAAAAO8/dFwxuTu8PI8/s72-c/6034256.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6590872741081019803</id><published>2009-05-14T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T16:02:58.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SHHHHHHHH SHE'S ASLEEP......#39</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgyN2rkgQTI/AAAAAAAAAOs/ZEoyk0S2xBU/s1600-h/custom_7ejpt2hads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 333px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335795629075480882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgyN2rkgQTI/AAAAAAAAAOs/ZEoyk0S2xBU/s400/custom_7ejpt2hads.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quick, nobody's looking. Go on, hurry up, that window's open. In you go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ow! Mind your feet, that hurt but I don't mind. OK, we're in. Lets have a quick look around. Ah, here we go, it's like Santa's Grotto in here. If Santa was a Smiths fan that is. Blimey. Two life size cardboard Morrisseys. That's a little scary. What's that? Morrissey's pants? Put em down.&lt;br /&gt;Now, there's got to be something here that we can take from her. Those gits up at the recliner need something on me, something I won't want made public. That way if dares to speak up against em again they'll have us in their pockets.&lt;br /&gt;But it's all good, she's not hiding anything. Whatever you see on Danielle, well that's her. Damn. I thought this was going to be easy money. Oi! Watch where you step, I don't want anything.....broken.....oh you berk!! Twat! I told you to watch out. You're a real clumsy idiot. If you weren't family I'd throw you through that window you stupid fuck. Hold on. What's this? It's a false wall. Hold that torch a little higher. No, not in my face you mug, through that hole in the wall you've made. That's it.&lt;br /&gt;Heh. Well, look at this. Paydirt! I'm back in 1991. It's a shrine!! Look at those posters. Hey, wait a minute, isn't that? It is, it's the original shirts. Ergh, those stains look &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShHoeQC99HI/AAAAAAAAAQE/PS3D-uw02_k/s1600-h/n518965874_1571422_4804086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 675px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337302639811884146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShHoeQC99HI/AAAAAAAAAQE/PS3D-uw02_k/s400/n518965874_1571422_4804086.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;a bit dodgy. Well, who would have thought it eh? Morrissey. Look at this, she's got posters, annuals, calendars. There's picture discs and everything. I got to admit though, I can remember watching those shirts coming off back in 91. Those shirts were a bit tasty. Look, she's got photos taken with him!!! Even the blokes! Yup, keep that light up, I'm going to take photos of this, we've got her now!! The proof we wanted, Danielle loves Morrissey!!&lt;br /&gt;Still can you blame her? His the British Mexican. Without the advantage of being Irish. Yeh, I know, one of em was a Cockney. And the blokes had dodgy haircuts. Like James Dean both of em. But still. The shirts. And some tidy little singles. You think I'm joking? Here, hold the crowbar, I'll put a couple on. OK, there's Kill Uncle, which will always be the sound of Christmas 1993 for me. Pretty much the last Christmas as a kid before the teenage hormones kicked in properly. But still there were the shirts. I suspect they helped speed up puberty. Listen to those Morrissey bells. Lovely st&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgyN6yPKk_I/AAAAAAAAAO0/Fb_NeJheZcI/s1600-h/m-C207.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 322px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335795699584504818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgyN6yPKk_I/AAAAAAAAAO0/Fb_NeJheZcI/s400/m-C207.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;uff. "he came today, but had to go, to visit you? You'll never know"...that scared my little friend stupid!&lt;br /&gt;And then spring 1984. An absolute classic time for British pop, all shiny and brightly coloured, ABC, Human League, Soft Cell, Depeche mode, The cure, Erasure. And in amongst it all, My Camera Never Lies, with it's opening dreamy 'click click' stuff, I must get a picture of her sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;What? Oh man, look at her sleep, I told you even while she sleeps she can take your heart away. all the girly vocals she has, funny accents and all I love it. You should listen to her. Ah, it's the click click middle bit. Now listen to this, I recorded her voice, I want to dance in a silly jerky fashion now! "My camera has good eyes" I have such a crush on her...what did I say that out loud? shit! Oi, why is the light on your tape recorder red? Turn that off you dozy idiot, now!! Oi come back here!!! I think we got caught! no I got caught!!!! Danielle.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll fix your wall, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6590872741081019803?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6590872741081019803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6590872741081019803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/shhhhhhhh-shes-asleep38.html' title='SHHHHHHHH SHE&apos;S ASLEEP......#39'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgyN2rkgQTI/AAAAAAAAAOs/ZEoyk0S2xBU/s72-c/custom_7ejpt2hads.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3211196665649835867</id><published>2009-05-13T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T15:58:41.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SOMEDAY SOMEHOW SOMEONE WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU....#38</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgtV-sj7MXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/gnYl8KiAJRg/s1600-h/m-P640.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 342px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335452719152574834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgtV-sj7MXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/gnYl8KiAJRg/s400/m-P640.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And you my invalid friend, you slam the receiver when you say If I had your limbs for a day, I would steam away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sad. Not 100% sure why. I think you're sick so that must be it Danielle, Angel. I'm hungry, in tired!. I like you so much. my idea of Danielle is everything and I assure you that you are incredibly amazing. It's legal, don't worry about it..... I just feel like I have nothing to start on, you know. Caught between a rock and a hard place. In a literal rut. Lets hug I'm sure we can make each other feel better. I want to go to England and live off their socialistic government would you like to come with?. And I'll have an accent there on their opposite roads. hawt. My body hurts, like Hulk Hogan style haha. I wish I believed in something that I trusted with my fate. Unattractiveness is my niche. I'm really good at it. And you know what? my fate is you. "I wanna know, can you show me?". We can be best friends, forever. MORRISSEY, our best friend too. Like I know he's &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShHoEYDVIaI/AAAAAAAAAP8/-bi_xvEfn6Y/s1600-h/n518965874_372304_53.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337302195284287906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShHoEYDVIaI/AAAAAAAAAP8/-bi_xvEfn6Y/s400/n518965874_372304_53.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;in a lot of these, but really, trust the MORRISSEY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sickness is just a word, but is says so much, Jay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come with me my ANGEL,&lt;br /&gt;sunny and bright is the morning,&lt;br /&gt;let me take you to the place,&lt;br /&gt;you have never been before.&lt;br /&gt;through bright moonlit fields,&lt;br /&gt;we will cross,hand in hand we will cross the river of dreams together,roped together like a tether.&lt;br /&gt;Walk through the open spaces of my loving heart, ANGEL.&lt;br /&gt;Let's sit under the shade of the tree of promise,&lt;br /&gt;and pick the fruits of trust and love,&lt;br /&gt;like the innocent hungry dove.&lt;br /&gt;Deep in our eyes lies the fountain of love enduring,&lt;br /&gt;unexplored like the promise of a virgin,&lt;br /&gt;search for your space and rest,&lt;br /&gt;till the rain of love falls down. Let the sparkling drops of passion consume thee, drink till you have had enough, then come and rest in my arms, then drift to sleep on my arms of tenderness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3211196665649835867?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3211196665649835867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3211196665649835867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/someday-somehow-someone-will-take-care.html' title='SOMEDAY SOMEHOW SOMEONE WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU....#38'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgtV-sj7MXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/gnYl8KiAJRg/s72-c/m-P640.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1571653345526137030</id><published>2009-05-12T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T13:01:54.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU'RE THE ONE FOR ME FATTY.....#37</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgoCNaadRJI/AAAAAAAAAN8/7HuKFNW6cko/s1600-h/6a00c22529a3618fdb00d09e6b079abe2b-500pi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335079138025620626" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgoCNaadRJI/AAAAAAAAAN8/7HuKFNW6cko/s400/6a00c22529a3618fdb00d09e6b079abe2b-500pi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left my girl in Kansas City&lt;br /&gt;Left her crying in the rain&lt;br /&gt;Well, I told her that I made my mind up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to see her again&lt;br /&gt;What makes the night so lonely&lt;br /&gt;What makes the night so long&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's just because I'm a man&lt;br /&gt;That's done a good woman wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't eat, I can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;All I can do is cry for her&lt;br /&gt;All I can do is cry and pain myself&lt;br /&gt;Told her that she was a trifler&lt;br /&gt;Told her that she played around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was just a lyin' man&lt;br /&gt;Trying to hide the tracks he'd found&lt;br /&gt;Gonna catch myself a flyer &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShBs_g19FnI/AAAAAAAAAPs/1ULXLwfp_NI/s1600-h/n500330931_1296573_6130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336885396837832306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShBs_g19FnI/AAAAAAAAAPs/1ULXLwfp_NI/s400/n500330931_1296573_6130.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One that's Kansas City bound&lt;br /&gt;I'm a-go in' lookin' for my baby&lt;br /&gt;Good Lord, I hope she's still around&lt;br /&gt;I can't eat, I can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;All I can do is cry for her&lt;br /&gt;All I can do is cry...................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you so much that words can't explain everything I fell this joy that I have for you would beat my best day.&lt;br /&gt;When I am at the weakest point of my life You are there in my head encouraging me to run this race Cause you are there with me all the way.&lt;br /&gt;You are on my mind day and night.The first person I see when I wake up,and the last I see when I go close my eyes When we are apart I picture your gracious smile and gentle hug up against me&lt;br /&gt;I can let my feelings out to you and know for a fact I won't regret it because no matter what is you I want always on my side.&lt;br /&gt;I thank God for sending me someone like you who is precious and loving.&lt;br /&gt;So I can truly say that you are the Angel of My Life!I will always be thankful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danielle you're pure and lovely, what have you done to me?&lt;br /&gt;When all I can do is long into this blog and blog just about you. Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1571653345526137030?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1571653345526137030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1571653345526137030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/youre-one-for-me-fatty36.html' title='YOU&apos;RE THE ONE FOR ME FATTY.....#37'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgoCNaadRJI/AAAAAAAAAN8/7HuKFNW6cko/s72-c/6a00c22529a3618fdb00d09e6b079abe2b-500pi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6995604153635584127</id><published>2009-05-11T11:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T12:55:13.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate Mondays, Well Tuesday is not Monday, Wednesday is a hump day, Thurday is almost Friday, TGIF! #36</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SghxQad1J2I/AAAAAAAAAN0/KmQd47fG9Ew/s1600-h/n532875387_2002733_2991766.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334638285416638306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SghxQad1J2I/AAAAAAAAAN0/KmQd47fG9Ew/s400/n532875387_2002733_2991766.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pretty much grew up listening to Morrissey and The Smiths, David Bowie along with a few others like Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order,Erasure,R.E.M. NIN etc... Back when I was a young lad (too many years ago!) The Smiths and Morrissey were my absolute favorites Morrissey became my life. I remember smoking with friends and making lists about which albums we would take with us if you could only have a few albums with us on a desserted island or say out into space. Ha, we were high... One of the ones that would always make my list was (Vauxhall and I) by Morrissey. It still holds up really well In me I think. It's an amazing record and "SPEEDWAY" just takes me away the drums in the end OMG! is he's best regular full length release. Some would argue Meat is Murder which had some amazing guitar work by Johnny Marr but Vauxhall and I is kinda were it all came together commercially and artistically. The guitar work on Bigmouth Strikes Again The Smiths (Wow!) and There is a Light that Never Goes Out is probably one of the &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShBrjWrVn0I/AAAAAAAAAPk/bIj-ww0rrcA/s1600-h/n518965874_1553833_4051801.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 265px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336883813560983362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/ShBrjWrVn0I/AAAAAAAAAPk/bIj-ww0rrcA/s400/n518965874_1553833_4051801.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;best pop songs ever written about teenage angst. Queens and Louder than Bombs which was a compilation released later on are probably the two most essential Smiths releases. You can get a pretty good idea of what they did with those two releases. But of course us die hard Smiths/ Morrissey fans have to have them all! So yeah I'd have to take them all with me.. If I can take two things out into space with me to never return all my Smiths/Morrissey cd's and Danielle, What a way to leave. I would not even think it for a second. In fact I hope my name is first in the ballot. Because my list is ready with me.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe someday I will get that star,Jay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6995604153635584127?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6995604153635584127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6995604153635584127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-hate-mondays-well-tuesday-is-not.html' title='I hate Mondays, Well Tuesday is not Monday, Wednesday is a hump day, Thurday is almost Friday, TGIF! #36'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SghxQad1J2I/AAAAAAAAAN0/KmQd47fG9Ew/s72-c/n532875387_2002733_2991766.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4309929451862365288</id><published>2009-05-10T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T20:41:19.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#35</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sgd-hEBEHEI/AAAAAAAAANM/j5Kf7mcZfio/s1600-h/1547.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334371390122630210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sgd-hEBEHEI/AAAAAAAAANM/j5Kf7mcZfio/s400/1547.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, yes we are one, and we've been one &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since the day you introduced us&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a Tuesday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where we had school the next day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes we've been one, and we've been one &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since day one&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meeting in seeeeeeecrete&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In between your walls&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With you in the studs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A clue right down your nose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hey you we'll be back in 15 if not give us 30"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Till then bake us a cake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The one we all love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So before I go; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How long have you and you been in love?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg-HO_soMyI/AAAAAAAAAPU/bQl_aORXogk/s1600-h/n1306342919_30283399_8219.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336632775143863074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg-HO_soMyI/AAAAAAAAAPU/bQl_aORXogk/s400/n1306342919_30283399_8219.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And have you had your best hour?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyday is like Sunday, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4309929451862365288?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4309929451862365288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4309929451862365288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#35'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sgd-hEBEHEI/AAAAAAAAANM/j5Kf7mcZfio/s72-c/1547.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4526200314936082777</id><published>2009-05-08T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T10:23:42.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TRUE TO YOU ......#34</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgS7d_HFjMI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Bmi1F3NX2gQ/s1600-h/n518965874_1522885_5628.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 302px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333593982545267906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgS7d_HFjMI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Bmi1F3NX2gQ/s400/n518965874_1522885_5628.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wrote this a few days ago. is a poem that says everything and it leads to the main point &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"TRUE TO YOU" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my dream, we look so alive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We kiss to the moon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't wake me up to the morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right here I love to stay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My best dream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My best fantasy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My best desire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favorite crush&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my eyes the world don't exist&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Only you exist in me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet you show me your dark side&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You igno&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg9_cTPBC0I/AAAAAAAAAPE/tnRZJx9w-3A/s1600-h/n518965874_520928_1153.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 259px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336624207633648450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sg9_cTPBC0I/AAAAAAAAAPE/tnRZJx9w-3A/s400/n518965874_520928_1153.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;re me here like&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your worst dress &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your worst pair of shoes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your ugliest doll&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your worst friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm looking in your eyes, deep down in your soul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're hurt right deep in side&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet you hurt me more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next to you I feel so alive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A feeling only you can destroy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THE DAY YOU DIE I'LL DIE TOO&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Till then I'll always be here &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your best joke&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your best laugh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your best slave&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your best hand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your best lie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your best SIN&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can stab me in the back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can kill me with your words&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can push me to the side &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still I'll run away with you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll STAY TRUE TO YOU.............................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't ever slam the hammer, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4526200314936082777?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4526200314936082777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4526200314936082777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-wrote-this-few-days-ago.html' title='TRUE TO YOU ......#34'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgS7d_HFjMI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Bmi1F3NX2gQ/s72-c/n518965874_1522885_5628.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-662193174674119001</id><published>2009-05-07T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T16:30:21.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY LIFE, AS TOLD BY MOZZA #33</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgN2Qz72JiI/AAAAAAAAAMI/1gf4lkPRvTM/s1600-h/Morrissey-Pregnant-For-The-64253.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 333px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 350px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333236414928004642" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgN2Qz72JiI/AAAAAAAAAMI/1gf4lkPRvTM/s400/Morrissey-Pregnant-For-The-64253.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wake up everyday filled with thoughts of you. Your portrait and the intoxicating evening which we spent yesterday in my dreams have left my senses in turmoil. Sweet, incomparable Danielle, what a strange most perfect effect you have on my heart! Are you sad? Do I see you looking lonely? Are you worried? because I am if you're sad I'm sad too... My soul aches with sorrow, and there can be no rest for me till I put a smile in your face; but is there still more in store for me when, my feelings which overwhelm me, I draw from your pictures, from your heart a love which consumes me with fire? it was last night that I fully realized how much an image of you your portrait gives to me!&lt;br /&gt;Until&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgtXzxj9i_I/AAAAAAAAAOk/osFXd2pzauk/s1600-h/1234580625575.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 192px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335454730539600882" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgtXzxj9i_I/AAAAAAAAAOk/osFXd2pzauk/s400/1234580625575.jpeg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; then, AMOR DE LOS AMORES, an eternity worth of kisses; but give me 1 in return, for it's all I need to live a million years next to you, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Are you a male or female:&lt;br /&gt;Billy Budd &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Describe yourself:&lt;br /&gt;Found Found Found &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. How do you feel about yourself:&lt;br /&gt;Seasick, Yet Still Docked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriend:&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Drug&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Describe your current boy/girl situation:&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie Pie &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Describe your current location:&lt;br /&gt;The Public Image &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgtXTDlxH7I/AAAAAAAAAOU/g3p3zTZOg3U/s1600-h/1234580278319.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335454168443330482" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgtXTDlxH7I/AAAAAAAAAOU/g3p3zTZOg3U/s400/1234580278319.jpeg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;7. Describe where you want to be:&lt;br /&gt;London&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Your best friend(s) is:&lt;br /&gt;Tony The Pony &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. Your favourite colour is:&lt;br /&gt;Black Cloud&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. You know that:&lt;br /&gt;The Teachers Are Afraid Of The Pupils and The Edges Are No Longer Parallel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. If your life was a television show what would it be called:&lt;br /&gt;My Love Life &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. What is life to you:&lt;br /&gt;Oh Phoney &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. What is the best advice you have to give:&lt;br /&gt;America Is Not The World and Hold On To Your Friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;MORRISSEY, and using ONLY MORRISSEY SONG TITLES. (Please note I'm not 100% serious with these answers....99.5% I'll admit to.....)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-662193174674119001?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/662193174674119001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/662193174674119001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-wake-up-everyday-filled-with-thoughts.html' title='MY LIFE, AS TOLD BY MOZZA #33'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgN2Qz72JiI/AAAAAAAAAMI/1gf4lkPRvTM/s72-c/Morrissey-Pregnant-For-The-64253.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8249840424256346234</id><published>2009-05-06T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T16:43:25.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>writing about your favourite singer/drug/star/DANIELLE #32</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgIUrWniZFI/AAAAAAAAALY/13JxN7ge_6I/s1600-h/IMG00164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332847643798430802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgIUrWniZFI/AAAAAAAAALY/13JxN7ge_6I/s400/IMG00164.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How do you go about writing about your favourite drug? The one that had such a profound effect on you that you know you would have ended up a rather different person without it. A drug you can’t imagine your life without. A drug that helped re-wire your brain and awakened your social conscience and emotional consciousness. I suppose you could start by sitting on the same bed where you listened to that life-changing drug for the first time several years ago. The drug, Danielle Gayle; the love, Natural Beauty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgoJdyFIW9I/AAAAAAAAAOE/8OuJN2knmdk/s1600-h/n518965874_858473_7429.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335087115837922258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgoJdyFIW9I/AAAAAAAAAOE/8OuJN2knmdk/s400/n518965874_858473_7429.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My first encounter with this beautiful drug was in 2008 Myspace, the site to be seen a dividing line between those who can love and those that can destroy love. It had been a steady stream of pretty boys and sluts, but sandwiched in between them, rather conspicuously to me, was an ANGEL with the eyes as White as the withe pearls from the sea, skin so pale that can make you love, a site that cane make you fall while you're on the floor. for If You don't believe This, Your Children Will Be The Next pretty boys and sluts there. Not only is this ANGEL gorgeous but a MORRISSEY lover. Makes me melt while in the snow, the visual style and sound of her voice just enough to steel your soul. live-like-it’s-the-end-of-the-millennium atmosphere. Relief, indeed Over years, I can still remember as I sat there, Amazed by this ANGEL, blue and white, red, green, all the Beautiful colours of her face. not one human can com pair, there identity had literally been erased, and I mulled over the pictures for years afterwards. However, I was still at a place in my life that 'I still believe in LOVE AT FIRST SITE' I seem to require any further research into this Angel and her life, just to write everything I can about her. I, like no other man, can fine every piece of beauty in this great dr&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgIUz5WWJdI/AAAAAAAAALg/vfhOITYD4Ds/s1600-h/moz+record.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332847790560519634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgIUz5WWJdI/AAAAAAAAALg/vfhOITYD4Ds/s400/moz+record.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ug of mine. God, allowed her to land in this planet. Others just assumed she had always been there and had just had her first hit single. She is my ANGEL,STAR, BEST DRUG.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DANIELLE Had her star before you knew that stars ever existed, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8249840424256346234?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8249840424256346234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8249840424256346234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-do-you-go-about-writing-about-your.html' title='writing about your favourite singer/drug/star/DANIELLE #32'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgIUrWniZFI/AAAAAAAAALY/13JxN7ge_6I/s72-c/IMG00164.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8013962562558730037</id><published>2009-05-05T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:53:13.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It took my whole life...#31</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgDTulGLYeI/AAAAAAAAALA/05CD8R3YR4o/s1600-h/m404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 372px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332494755992134114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgDTulGLYeI/AAAAAAAAALA/05CD8R3YR4o/s400/m404.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let us be friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let us be lovers well marry our dreams together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've got some real love here in my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I bought a pack of MORRISSEY cards and all your favorite sweets &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we got on my car and took off to look for middle-America&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are the passanger singing your life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Danielle, I said as we boarded the I-10 in cali, My dream seems like a reality now &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It took me my whole life to hitchhike&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;from my town to yours for you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now we've gone to look for middle-America&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are singing in the car&lt;br /&gt;We are Laughing on the CAR we are Playing games with the faces &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You got the camera loving you with your smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You said the car next to us is a spy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I said be careful his headlights are really a camera&lt;br /&gt;Toss me a chocolate, I th&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sgeu2-vvRWI/AAAAAAAAANk/NYSdKVvGe8U/s1600-h/l_e26037593dde4d9ba2e518d4cfa3f531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334424543223039330" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sgeu2-vvRWI/AAAAAAAAANk/NYSdKVvGe8U/s400/l_e26037593dde4d9ba2e518d4cfa3f531.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ink theres one in the bag. We had the last one an hour ago &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I looked at the scenery, you read your MORRISSEY cards And the stars rose over an open sky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Danielle, I'm happy,in love,alive, and lost, I said, though I knew you was sleeping &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm empty and aching but I don't care anymore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Counting the headlights on the Arizona turnpike &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They've all came to look for Danielle &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All came to look for Danielle............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's take an adventure just me and you we'll go where ever you want, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8013962562558730037?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8013962562558730037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8013962562558730037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/let-us-be-friends-let-us-be-lovers-well.html' title='It took my whole life...#31'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgDTulGLYeI/AAAAAAAAALA/05CD8R3YR4o/s72-c/m404.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6933052572269231251</id><published>2009-05-04T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T18:38:10.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I won't sleep until the world sees.....#30</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf-IFA_0OTI/AAAAAAAAAKo/L236iDmMU9U/s1600-h/2291755.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 397px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332130103578343730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf-IFA_0OTI/AAAAAAAAAKo/L236iDmMU9U/s400/2291755.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So on Saturday, you told me that you were going through some SHIT! I wish you open up more to me and tell me what it is that makes you feel this way. I want to be there for you I want to take that feeling from you. All I've been doing is thinking of you. I log into Facebook just to see if you posted a new comment. I always like to read your words, what mood you are in and what it is you are going to do. To me you are more than words can say. Everything you do amazes me in every way, To me you are the biggest star why can't you see that? Maybe the day you read this you'll know just how much you mean to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So today when I got out of work and I got in my car. I turn on the radio and "wonder" came on. just as I thought I was not going to think of you. The song, told me otherwise. But what am I thinking I play MORRISSEY, everyday playing MORRISSEY, I is like having you in my speakers, my ears, my sight, my car, my t.v. my computer, is just like having you everywhere..... and I'm not insane. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgeBYv7jfII/AAAAAAAAANc/1VCAiCJYTAs/s1600-h/l_bcb0b94320144914a213fcf62fd539a5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334374545826741378" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgeBYv7jfII/AAAAAAAAANc/1VCAiCJYTAs/s400/l_bcb0b94320144914a213fcf62fd539a5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm so fascinated by your beauty just like a kid is fascinated with life once it learns what it has to offer. the more I see you the more I want to learn about you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Danielle, god's gift to the world, yes you are. he wasn't kidding when he made you, he knew what he was sending to the world. His best "WORK OF ART" I won't sleep until the world sees you, I won't rest until that smile of yours gives hope to those that just don't believe. Impossible NEVER. and it starts here......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To think of you is better than a glass of water, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"WONDER"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgeBONR7r9I/AAAAAAAAANU/IumkTGtCzPw/s1600-h/l_79f4ed81703db4183deda731e9be85ad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334374364726669266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgeBONR7r9I/AAAAAAAAANU/IumkTGtCzPw/s400/l_79f4ed81703db4183deda731e9be85ad.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doctors have come from distant cities just to see me stand over my bed disbelieving what they're seeing&lt;br /&gt;they say I must be one of the wonders of god's own creation and as far as they see they can offer no explanation&lt;br /&gt;newspapers ask intimate questions want confessions they reach into my head to steal the glory of my story&lt;br /&gt;they say I must be one of the wonders of god's own creation and as far as they see they can offer no explanation&lt;br /&gt;I believe fate smiled and destiny laughed as she came to my cradle "know this child will be able" laughed as my body she lifted "know this child will be gifted with love, with patience and with faith she'll make her way"&lt;br /&gt;people see me I'm a challenge to your balance I'm over your heads how I confound you and astound you to know I must be one of the wonders of god's own creation and as far as you see you can offer me no explanation&lt;br /&gt;I believe fate smiled and destiny laughed as she came to my cradle "know this child will be able" laughed as she came to my mother "know this child will not suffer" laughed as my body she lifted "know this child will be gifted with love, with patience and with faith she'll make her way"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6933052572269231251?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6933052572269231251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6933052572269231251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-wont-sleep-until-world-sees.html' title='I won&apos;t sleep until the world sees.....#30'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf-IFA_0OTI/AAAAAAAAAKo/L236iDmMU9U/s72-c/2291755.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8286106397081230371</id><published>2009-05-03T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T16:16:10.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want you to be happy next to me #29</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf4_mJYVRVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/6IGOKQ-n4tY/s1600-h/morrissey_fy_052307_rs_071f2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 314px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331768933438801234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf4_mJYVRVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/6IGOKQ-n4tY/s400/morrissey_fy_052307_rs_071f2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always told myself. "you have to pick one person and make it work." I was watching this couple today, They looked so happy, so into each other. I saw you and me happier than that couple. and I just kept thinking... "this is real. and Danielle and I are not." And I don't think we are that different from each other. I want you to be with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want you to love me the way I love you. I don't really wanna see anything else. Or our pass. But you in my arms is all I want. And I know I see you. I'll, tell you the truth every time. I want you.... I want you to look me in the eye and never be able to feel HURT...... The last person in the world I'd want to hurt is you. I say that because is true. I know we can't choose who we love but, I think you are the best thing that ever happened to me. At least you got me to tell the truth. I can't thank you enough......I hope as you read this you feel SPECIAL in everyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgS9KLaN7lI/AAAAAAAAANE/b607Sk7l8LI/s1600-h/344208080_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 265px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333595841272606290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgS9KLaN7lI/AAAAAAAAANE/b607Sk7l8LI/s400/344208080_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because you are special, you are DANIELLE, always remember you are DANIELLE. and I'm the person that thinks the world of you and beyond......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll never stop, for the day I do, is the day you are in my arms FOREVER, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8286106397081230371?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8286106397081230371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8286106397081230371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-want-you-to-be-happy-next-to-me-29.html' title='I want you to be happy next to me #29'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf4_mJYVRVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/6IGOKQ-n4tY/s72-c/morrissey_fy_052307_rs_071f2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3963286640805702680</id><published>2009-05-02T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T15:30:37.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I saw the light in your eyes #28</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfznR1BtaCI/AAAAAAAAAJg/_6ilP8lA3Mg/s1600-h/Pic4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331390352377866274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfznR1BtaCI/AAAAAAAAAJg/_6ilP8lA3Mg/s400/Pic4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's perfect, and what it brings, is everything...A simple smile comes calling back, a brilliant girl, I'm still shuddering I looked out my window, I'm sure I saw her there.You don't need me to tell you now, that nothing can compare to you&lt;br /&gt;I think You smiled when I told you,That You're the love of my life.You might've succeeded in changing me,In giving me life in a dream.It's easier to hate than to be loved by one,You next to me is my proud,Leaving your side never easy,I saw the light in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Now you are sweet, and what you bring I tried to take. the loneliness is a word to me now,Your soul in me is what I need.and all I've lost means nothing now, you're in my eyes,When you wake up a necklace across your neck I might've lived my life in a dream but I swear it, you are real memories refuses, and it shatters like glass mercurial future, forget the past,but it's you, it's what I feel&lt;br /&gt;But if You find it in your heart, to give me the chance,You find it in your heart, it's the best choice you've ever made.&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you, forever, I love you, forever&lt;br /&gt;Leaving you never easy,I saw the light,Truth,honest,roads,trust in your soul........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgSyeI8HisI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ubDGxukhFFw/s1600-h/117008359_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333584089578965698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgSyeI8HisI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ubDGxukhFFw/s400/117008359_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is only one, and that's you.... here and always, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3963286640805702680?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3963286640805702680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3963286640805702680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-saw-light-in-your-eyes.html' title='I saw the light in your eyes #28'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfznR1BtaCI/AAAAAAAAAJg/_6ilP8lA3Mg/s72-c/Pic4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7208816877711346606</id><published>2009-05-01T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T18:45:40.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'My love life' #27</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfuG4yjEKoI/AAAAAAAAAHw/yW2qrP-pSH8/s1600-h/l_63de34835076ab72c51774d05ace6bba.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 196px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331002894122756738" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfuG4yjEKoI/AAAAAAAAAHw/yW2qrP-pSH8/s400/l_63de34835076ab72c51774d05ace6bba.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These quotes are all mine given to you...........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Love her voice,face,hips,dress,dancing, hair,height,shape,skin tone,legs!!!!!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;"Her hands now that's called : love"&lt;br /&gt;"This is the ultimate fantasy woman.and that blouse with the buttons exposing her back is just enough to kindle my imagination."&lt;br /&gt;"And life tells many things about her."&lt;br /&gt;"Get a fire hose...this babe's on fire"&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing went wrong the day she was made, and everything was perfect the day she was born."&lt;br /&gt;"She is beautiful. She goes to show that you don't have to be a swimsuit model beautiful, but classy and.. elegant. Great too."&lt;br /&gt;"Love the way she moves."&lt;br /&gt;"Beautiful woman!"&lt;br /&gt;"She can wear anything and still look original."&lt;br /&gt;"Not even an accident can make her look different."&lt;br /&gt;"The voice of an ANGEL."&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes, a little can say so much."&lt;br /&gt;"I'm&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgI87usrf3I/AAAAAAAAAMA/ouco_yvHDqs/s1600-h/145254.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332891905605468018" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgI87usrf3I/AAAAAAAAAMA/ouco_yvHDqs/s400/145254.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, speechless. I love the dramatic change. &amp;amp;&amp;amp; that smile is captavating.we all need change."&lt;br /&gt;"The lighting in her eyes (as in all her ways) is gorgeous and quite theatrical."&lt;br /&gt;"If the world was mine, I'd make her the Ambassador."&lt;br /&gt;"Makes me think of "priscilla, queen of the desert."&lt;br /&gt;"what a beautiful face...She is gorgeous even without makeup. Fantastic my favorite!!"&lt;br /&gt;"Speechless!Danielle is a diva!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;"I think MORRISSEY wrote 'My love life' after her."&lt;br /&gt;"It doesn't get any better than you, a job well, done."&lt;br /&gt;"If it was up to me I'd carve you in every mountain."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgI8okigJLI/AAAAAAAAALw/xj90EOwakzU/s1600-h/l_7ecace28b0a68645c19fca26f77152d6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332891576460911794" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgI8okigJLI/AAAAAAAAALw/xj90EOwakzU/s400/l_7ecace28b0a68645c19fca26f77152d6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I am more than convince that I can sit down in front of you, and look at you. And seconds would turn into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, years into centuries, and centuries to beyon. And I know you will never grow old in me. For I shall die and you will live on for ever as long as the world can offer life.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgI8wiV82aI/AAAAAAAAAL4/w2_oYrMNWO0/s1600-h/l_48ef7e736be24c3e9af14e520bd23207.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 237px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332891713310349730" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgI8wiV82aI/AAAAAAAAAL4/w2_oYrMNWO0/s400/l_48ef7e736be24c3e9af14e520bd23207.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is. Is Jay Ill for Danielle? The answer is and always will be... YES!......Jay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. Believe me when i say that I can go on FOREVER! and EVER.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7208816877711346606?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7208816877711346606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7208816877711346606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/05/these-quotes-are-all-mine-given-to-you.html' title='&apos;My love life&apos; #27'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfuG4yjEKoI/AAAAAAAAAHw/yW2qrP-pSH8/s72-c/l_63de34835076ab72c51774d05ace6bba.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8454834847933302033</id><published>2009-04-30T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T15:58:30.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the heart’s depths #26</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo7AEDRLEI/AAAAAAAAAGI/eC8IEOC1DNI/s1600-h/Morrissey-Everyday-Is-Like-29458.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 392px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330637981219892290" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo7AEDRLEI/AAAAAAAAAGI/eC8IEOC1DNI/s400/Morrissey-Everyday-Is-Like-29458.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear, Joan of Arc&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AT your house,I pulled a small envelope from my pocket and wordlessly, tenderly I wanted to presented it to you but I didn't. I recognized the uneven penmanship as my heart’s. My mind raced. “Oh, Jay! Is this the letter—the one I’ve begged myself to write for so long?” My soul glimmering tears answered silently. I would have suggested you read it when you were alone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, as I got in the car sat in the driver side amid the glow of flickering flames and the hazy halo of your eyes lights, I tore the envelope with trembling fingers and the precious missive. Onto several little pices note pages, my stoic soul had melted, giving way to a litany of love. For as long as I could remember, Danielle had never looked so Beautiful, how I wanted to voiced my tenderness toward her. What I could not say in person now flowed freely from my pen. I wrote and wept—and wept again. Gently placing the papers back in the envelope, I knew I was placing a lifetime of Danielle's love in my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How well I understood Danielle, came to me not as a surprise but as a gift to me. I had often tried unsuccessfully to understand others. verbalize my love to my heavenly Father. Self-conscious and stilted, I found it impossible to speak my love to another human. It was difficult to concentrate and to articulate my deepest feelings for a stranger. My endearments were spoken scattershot—blurted erratically, thrown haphazardly to the wind. I began to realize that sentiments so treasured, so tender, must be carefully weighed and thoughtfully considered, mined like gems from the heart’s depths.&lt;br /&gt;It is the gift of your whole heart that I most desires—a heart without pretense or posturing; a heart in all its honesty, beauty, passion, and brokenness; a heart pulsing with love, joy, sadness, delight, doubt, pain, anguish, even anger. True love expresses all emotions, and true love—my true love for you—accepts them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgIWAvVCrqI/AAAAAAAAALo/4BsTiH_oir4/s1600-h/10-19-08_1543.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332849110720622242" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgIWAvVCrqI/AAAAAAAAALo/4BsTiH_oir4/s400/10-19-08_1543.jpeg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most beautiful way I have found in which to wrap the gift of my heart is within a letter. Love letters are “our heart on our sleeve, our battle standard, our essence, our indelible signature, our emotional fingerprint, our private well of memory…our true secret self.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe some day I'll see you smile as you call my name, Jay... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8454834847933302033?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8454834847933302033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8454834847933302033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-joan-of-arc-at-your-housei-pulled.html' title='the heart’s depths #26'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo7AEDRLEI/AAAAAAAAAGI/eC8IEOC1DNI/s72-c/Morrissey-Everyday-Is-Like-29458.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3638972127245874445</id><published>2009-04-29T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T17:15:21.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My existence with yours.....#25</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfj6v32a0hI/AAAAAAAAAFA/kotZa23aCKk/s1600-h/elvispuzzle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330285859345977874" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfj6v32a0hI/AAAAAAAAAFA/kotZa23aCKk/s400/elvispuzzle.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dearest Joy of life,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I'm not sure what LOVE is ...what I do know is the love of a mother and family. But from a total stranger no-neve&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgDWRID_09I/AAAAAAAAALI/c3tLqJkr7Ac/s1600-h/697.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 178px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332497548517037010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgDWRID_09I/AAAAAAAAALI/c3tLqJkr7Ac/s400/697.jpeg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;r, never had one. I think I came close once but I looked into her eyes and I know that it isn't there. so far all I know is that it's a word and that it exist. it's there" I met you and now I get an idea of it. I quite liked needing to, really. The autonomy and LOVE and freedom that I felt when my arms came to your level was (I assume) that of the not average, but best human being ever it was all beer and skittles, ya dig? While the world is shitting in there oatmeal, I was in heaven's above. In your eye level And there ain't no cling wrap to cover it. But what's not rubbish, is your existence is real. Its created to be loved, I assume, not for the pain of living. I feel this joy in sporadic spurts which are usually halted by the sudden realization of the shit being placed in this world. I never liked the world, really. Both in the metaphorical sense and the literal sense. Its an old man meal, ain't it? Oh man. But I learned of your existence and my mind now has a difference of opinion of this crazzzy woe of a world.&lt;br /&gt;My existence with yours. We could do with a nice vacation. And someone to show me the&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgDWc1nucqI/AAAAAAAAALQ/hHyvt4Bk_zc/s1600-h/l_e3d62d776fd24e1986d4128a72424281.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332497749725049506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SgDWc1nucqI/AAAAAAAAALQ/hHyvt4Bk_zc/s400/l_e3d62d776fd24e1986d4128a72424281.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ropes (more like yes you!)...of life, not vacationing. But you know, it is what it is. I'm not thinking much of anything now that all that has been said. Does every one's thoughts have an Essex accent? Makes one wonder if people in Essex's thoughts are thrown at them in a Los Angeles threat. Think Parkway toll collectors. I think I should write a book (would you read it?). Would I be able to stay on topic long enough to draw in attention? Likely not. Does it frighten you to see that I think this way consecutively? Like, my brain has no segues. Just bam bam bam random. fucking. shit. Here ya go Jay, your brain has Tourette's! Not in the "Danielle has Tourette's' sense...more like...if my brain had a brain controlling my brain, the brain's brain would be giving my brain Tourette's. My mind has "diarrhea of the thought", much like my issue of diarrhea of the mouth. It just thinks as it thinks and tosses these thoughts at my conscience like there's no tomorrow. Maybe there isn't a tomorrow. Who are we to judge? I'd like to meet Saint Peter, sooner than later I hope. I have a lot of explaining to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Come, Armageddon! come! Armageddon! come! here and always, Jay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"SPEEDWAY" &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfj6Wi7UakI/AAAAAAAAAE4/WGhOWWMLFPU/s1600-h/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330285424232655426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfj6Wi7UakI/AAAAAAAAAE4/WGhOWWMLFPU/s400/11.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you slam Down the hammer Can you see it in your heart ? All of the rumours Keeping me grounded I never said, I never said that they were Completely unfounded&lt;br /&gt;So when you slam Down the hammer Can you see it in your heart ? Can you delve so low ? And when you're standing On my fingers Can you see it in your heart ? ... ah ...And when you try To break my spirit It wont work Because theres nothing left to break Anymore All of the rumours Keeping me grounded I never said, I never said that they were Completely unfounded&lt;br /&gt;You wont sleep Until the earth that wants me Finally has me Oh you've done it now You wont rest Until the hearse that becomes me Finally takes me Oh you've done it now And you wont smile Until my loving mouth Is shut good and proper Forever&lt;br /&gt;All of the rumours Keeping me grounded I never said, I never said that they were Completely unfounded And all those lies Written lies, twisted lies Well, they weren't lies They weren't lies They weren't lies&lt;br /&gt;I never said I never said I could have mentioned your name I could have dragged you in Guilt by implication By association Ive always been true to you In my own strange way Ive always been true to you In my own sick way Ill always stay true to you..........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3638972127245874445?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3638972127245874445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3638972127245874445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dearest-joy-of-life-im-not-sure-what.html' title='My existence with yours.....#25'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfj6v32a0hI/AAAAAAAAAFA/kotZa23aCKk/s72-c/elvispuzzle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7061730216507422919</id><published>2009-04-28T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T17:41:04.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MORRISSEY, YOU, AND ME IN 'VIENNA'.......#24</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfekfotxZAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/t8gh_-GBTJs/s1600-h/090311_morrissey_065-1024x682.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329909547428570114" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfekfotxZAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/t8gh_-GBTJs/s400/090311_morrissey_065-1024x682.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dear white golden Pearl, from the SEA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I had a dream last night "That we had gone to see MORRISSEY in 'VIENNA'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Look at me now from difficult child, to spectral hand, to Claude Brasseur, blah blah blah." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We went to see Morrissey for the first time overseas in VIENNA AUSTRIA, at the Wellmont. It was, in fact, the greatest experience of my life. You were there with me. and it was just me and you We showed up 3 1/2 hours early, to see MORRISSEY drive up to the building. We stood still as we see the m&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf-Jiis8qiI/AAAAAAAAAKw/eNe3Bl9exp4/s1600-h/l_90d8abe77b946144ce8011ad456425c6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332131710353844770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf-Jiis8qiI/AAAAAAAAAKw/eNe3Bl9exp4/s400/l_90d8abe77b946144ce8011ad456425c6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;an himself get out of a car. He looked amazing, so well dressed you were melting from the inside out as i was trying to cool you down. So we ended up first row, stage center. we made eye contact a few times with the &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SffF7Gwf3bI/AAAAAAAAAEw/nbeOv87dpZw/s1600-h/10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329946303233252786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SffF7Gwf3bI/AAAAAAAAAEw/nbeOv87dpZw/s400/10.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;man and even managed to obtain a piece of one of his D &amp;amp; G shirts thrown into the crowd. You manage to get on stage as he was singing "I KNOW IT'S OVER" even the bouncers help you get on stage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said he'd "smell spectacular." The night was completed by my successful launch over the barricade and a handshake; complete with smile and bow from Mr. Morrissey himself. I was unable to say anything except "Oh...my...God" for hours afterward. The setlist was impeccable and ironically enough, he played the same encore as the last show I attended at MANCHESTER LADS CLUB in October of unknown year: First of the Gang to Die. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I fly in the night Standing, with you underneath the sky, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf-J2mDUmRI/AAAAAAAAAK4/zdeHdLNsaR8/s1600-h/n518965874_1526522_8938.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332132054850378002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf-J2mDUmRI/AAAAAAAAAK4/zdeHdLNsaR8/s400/n518965874_1526522_8938.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Here is the dream setlist..... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1. "the queen is dead"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;2. "I will see you in far off places"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;3. "when last I spoke to carol"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;4. "all you need is me"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;5. "Last of the famous international playboys"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;6. "I'm throwing my arms around Paris"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;7. "the loop"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;8. "I like you"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;9. "my love life"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;10. "Alsatian Cousin"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;11. "girl afraid"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;12. "disappointed"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;13. "paint a vulgar"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;14. "Roy's keen"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;15. "life is a pigsty"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;16. "let me kiss you"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;17. "Seasick, yet still docked"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;18. "the boy with the thorn in his side" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;19. "whatever happens, i love you"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;20. "break up the family"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;21. "at amber"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;22. "the youngest was the most loved"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;23. "I know it's over"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;24. "Subway Train/Everyday Is Like Sunday" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;25. "My dearest love"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;26. "Speedway"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;27. "Suedhead"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;28. "There is a light that never goes out "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;29. " I have forgiven Jesus"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;30. "Angel, Angel down we go together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ENCORE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Tomorrow"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Jack The Ripper"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"First of the Gang to Die"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7061730216507422919?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7061730216507422919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7061730216507422919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-white-golden-pearl-from-sea-i-had.html' title='MORRISSEY, YOU, AND ME IN &apos;VIENNA&apos;.......#24'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfekfotxZAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/t8gh_-GBTJs/s72-c/090311_morrissey_065-1024x682.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6356111981555741095</id><published>2009-04-27T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T20:15:22.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>D.Gold, you made it to easy for me to find you.... #23</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfY6SS2L4TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/8puWhhdvc2M/s1600-h/morrissey_160306_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329511295010726194" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfY6SS2L4TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/8puWhhdvc2M/s400/morrissey_160306_4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;D.Gold, you made it to easy for me to find you.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All of the gifts that they gave can't compare in any way... ...to the love I am now giving to you. Right here, right now, on the floor." MORRISSEY.&lt;br /&gt;Writing whatever pops into my head is funny because you make it to easy for me. I'm happy are you happy?. "Don't change for you, don't change a thing for me." You'll never grow old in me. I feel old but for some reason I feel I'm going to get younger. I like to sleep that must be it. "For one so small, you seem so strong Mrs Gold." Apple cake not pie is foul. Morrissey has made me more human than conception could have ever managed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fetuses are merely parasites anyway. If I die before I'm 50, Natalie who's across the hall is gonna be pissed. She told me this 5 weeks ago. Something about cigarettes and stress. "She has been telling me that I have been acting childish. Foolish, ghoulish and...childish because all i do is talk about Danielle,Danielle,Danielle,and Danielle. Oh I know, I know, I know, I know, I KNOW...but I don't mind." I'm proud to be your fan. It does not bother me to say if this is love &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf5dr-vFfLI/AAAAAAAAAKg/U40zOT-tKqs/s1600-h/n518965874_947693_2261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331802019009494194" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf5dr-vFfLI/AAAAAAAAAKg/U40zOT-tKqs/s400/n518965874_947693_2261.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Because if you don't want to talk about it. Then it is love And I guess I'm going to have to live that But, I'm sure there's something in a shade of us Or something in between is stuck in my head. I love DREAMING is a way of life do you agree?. There's nothing wrong with it, Is what gives hope. "PENNY LANE" That's you silly. is hot like woah. I'm going to bed now (can't wait to close my eyes). I can't be philosophical when I can hardly be mobile. Its purely psychological...and corruptly metaphorical. The things you make me talk about and I love it!..... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think normally in Los A&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf5ddvLJjlI/AAAAAAAAAKY/fU043CyCpCc/s1600-h/l_88b15943ff6f0ce5e5f7e872b6d33599.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331801774314065490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf5ddvLJjlI/AAAAAAAAAKY/fU043CyCpCc/s400/l_88b15943ff6f0ce5e5f7e872b6d33599.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ngeles, if you can call it normal thinking, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6356111981555741095?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6356111981555741095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6356111981555741095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/d.html' title='D.Gold, you made it to easy for me to find you.... #23'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfY6SS2L4TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/8puWhhdvc2M/s72-c/morrissey_160306_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-954490872797380929</id><published>2009-04-26T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T18:10:42.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#22</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfUMrdWNtyI/AAAAAAAAAEY/T8fnC8ZCuXo/s1600-h/18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329179674814560034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfUMrdWNtyI/AAAAAAAAAEY/T8fnC8ZCuXo/s400/18.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;IT'S SUNDAY, I'M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY....Miss. MOZ_GIRL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there really can only be one Morrissey and one Danielle in this world. Last week I mentioned to my friend, between 1988 and 2008, only two out of the twenty million people i have come across in this life of mine only MORRISSEY and you ANGEL have made their mark in me. in a way that i can even explain. of the great MORRISSEY's singles released during this period your eyes, mouth,teeth,hair,and whole make you the top one. Fast forward seven years to the comeback that's (YOU ARE THE QUARRY)...and all four singles released in 2007 go Top 10. The only other act to enjoy such chart success is you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a letter i wrote to MORRISSEY, once. It never made it or as i like to call it. it just got lost in traffic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear MORRISSEY, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Without you my life is incomplete: &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf5AdDTYfaI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/x4z54qfAn30/s1600-h/l_4e98520575b0c216fadf221f89a4dc1b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331769876700233122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf5AdDTYfaI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/x4z54qfAn30/s400/l_4e98520575b0c216fadf221f89a4dc1b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say it all the time...but I've never meant something more in my life. A day without Morrissey is a miserable one. I kid you not. When you retire from this world...I shall cry for longer than you could ever imagine because you would no longer be here to write my life. You do it so well at time i have to turn just to look behind me to make sure you are not there writing about me. But somehow you still manege to do so. Regardless of what you claim, you're the only one who always was there, always is there, and always will be there to comfort and understand me. If you could only fathom how much you have meant to so many...you'd feel incredibly better about yourself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Morrissey, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always wanted to say loads to you. But I've settled on the main point: Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-954490872797380929?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/954490872797380929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/954490872797380929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-sunday-im-in-lovewith-morrissey-and.html' title='IT&apos;S SUNDAY, I&apos;M IN LOVE....WITH MORRISSEY AND YOU....#22'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfUMrdWNtyI/AAAAAAAAAEY/T8fnC8ZCuXo/s72-c/18.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8189582213251551657</id><published>2009-04-25T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:33:31.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MORRISSEY'S shirts...... #21</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfObNhewiWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/xmreHlHM2yU/s1600-h/mozzzzzz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 426px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 277px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328773440737413474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfObNhewiWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/xmreHlHM2yU/s400/mozzzzzz.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Am Human And I Need To Be Loved...just like you and everybody else......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, indeed! Today I thought I tell you about the awesome week I had in concerts with my friends in 2004'. I don't know if you were touring live shows at this time but InTo round off a kick-ass concert week I had in '04' that started off with Erasure and included New Order, we saw Morrissey live that week too.The man has an amazing voice and is so very theatrical. It's quite a show "YOU ARE THE QUARRY" Tour. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Random stuff that happened that night:~ As we made our way to the restroom during the opening act, because we had drank so much before the concert my Sexy Suburbanite friend (Jessica) turned to me and declared she was being orally raped. I looked at her mouth and then frowned. I was about to say, "Ummm...no I'm not in you yet, but after the show I will. you are not," when I realized she had in fact said. "I am being aurally raped." She was &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf0NFdSRf2I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/DhreyxgIlJw/s1600-h/l_7c82bda5d8fef0b9d71d65f711115f0f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 334px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331431921288314722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf0NFdSRf2I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/DhreyxgIlJw/s400/l_7c82bda5d8fef0b9d71d65f711115f0f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;referring to the atrocious sounds emanating from the opening act. Damn the English language and the similar pronunciation of words that are spelled differently and mean different things. But it makes for fun times! haha....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;~ Morrissey took off his shirt several times like always. Each time, he wiped his sweaty body with the piece of clothing and then flung it to his adoring fans. Luckily, we had seats further back and up and were not hit because people were fighting for (mostly men). However, a conversation ensued with John, about what would one do with said shirt. Would one hang it and let it stink up the closet with Morrissey's smell and then the room? Or, might one wash it and loose the smell? But then, there would no longer be Essence du Morrissey. Conundrum. The things Morrissey makes us talk about even while singing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf0M3u7LstI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Pwuw62G_Z5w/s1600-h/l_1b7f5cf00e260af0342501f80471f746.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331431685505135314" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf0M3u7LstI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Pwuw62G_Z5w/s400/l_1b7f5cf00e260af0342501f80471f746.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;~ I started screaming, as he was singing "NOW MY HEART IS FULL" and Jessica said "Sperminate me, Morrissey." (lol on SPERMINATE) God bless Jessica, Now I see the stupidity of her ways. Of course she wants children. Morrissey has he&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfOZ09IfqFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/xAmictA3Uk0/s1600-h/l_bcb0b94320144914a213fcf62fd539a5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;r man juice so she can carry he's seed haha. I look at Jessica and say to her "In MORRISSEY world that would never happen." Jessicsa looks at me " Well, at lest i have a chance in this world right?" Luckily, the music was louder than usual and only I heard. And of course I was just having a laugh...isn't Morrissey asexual?~ I don't know about his sexuality...but he was on something or other. At one point he stated, "So I reckon by the time we get to Jacksonville we'll get our heads beaten in by little school girls. The crime rate there is really low." Ummm. Sure. OK. Step away from the mic slowly MORRISSEY haha. we still love you....That's all I got at the moment. I am so on overdrive it is not even funny.Love y'all! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a million different people all rolled into one, Jay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. How I wish you were here.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8189582213251551657?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8189582213251551657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8189582213251551657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-am-human-and-i-need-to-be-loved.html' title='MORRISSEY&apos;S shirts...... #21'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfObNhewiWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/xmreHlHM2yU/s72-c/mozzzzzz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-2035527405398450087</id><published>2009-04-24T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:33:10.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My dear Lovegrove #20</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfJfOGWiG5I/AAAAAAAAADU/fAAqKPjtklI/s1600-h/Morrissey3RETNA2401_468x340.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328426004960648082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfJfOGWiG5I/AAAAAAAAADU/fAAqKPjtklI/s400/Morrissey3RETNA2401_468x340.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dear Lovegrove, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I find that writing these at 2:30 AM on a Saturday night is a good way to make myself laugh manically when I roll out of bed in the morning because i had writen about you and your never ending beauty. But I'm not even a little tired this time. I just ate an insane amount of Mexican food (undoubtedly something I will regret in 20 minutes) and drank a flat Coke it just teats better do you like your coke flat?. I feel like that idiot Joe Rogan; high and annoying. god i hate this brick!&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to kill The Smiths if "GIRL AFRAID" doesn't download. I've had to do it about 5 times now. Morrissey may argue that "The Smiths is Dead". But as that great t-shirt argued "Morrissey is officially a twat". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized recently that despite how hilarious I find them, my obscure 80's references have absolutely no impact on most of the people I know but you well i know where we stand. Maybe I'll stick to the easy ones: Madonna (T_T), The Breakfast Club and AIDs.&lt;br /&gt;I've stopped being not tired. Such a pain in the arse, sleep is. It bothers you with yawns and weary eyelids. Yet once you submit, sleep refuses to come...and then leaves only a few hours after arrival. do you agree?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Los Angeles, I'm yours." I've always wanted to say that don't ask. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get strange notions when I'm tired. I often believe I'm much more intelligent than I actually am. Its rather cute. Currently I happen to be wired...being kept active by Hot Fries and Dr. Pepper. I can hear The Creatures playing from somewhere in this room but I can't pinpoint a location i think it's the green winds. My forehead feels stiff. I feel the need to express random thoughts at this very moment, just to steal the virginity of this letter. I watch the sun come up every day. It makes me feel like a poet---like a rom&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf0MObWIfKI/AAAAAAAAAJo/GIuQejr9KgA/s1600-h/l_ae784b887d1420162daaffa52fcbd4c9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331430975874825378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf0MObWIfKI/AAAAAAAAAJo/GIuQejr9KgA/s400/l_ae784b887d1420162daaffa52fcbd4c9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;antic.&lt;br /&gt;My toes are cold. I have no intention of growing up. I love my posters. His name is Mozzy, and he is named after sex. The sun is rising. I should sleep. But if I did things I should do, I'd be in a much more desirable position.&lt;br /&gt;I like to be lazy---its a pastime of the aesthetes.&lt;br /&gt;Did you notice that all i did was talk about my laziness. I'm sure you can relate to me on this one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bed that carries my dreams, Jay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-2035527405398450087?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2035527405398450087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/2035527405398450087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-dear-lovegrove-i-find-that-writing.html' title='My dear Lovegrove #20'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfJfOGWiG5I/AAAAAAAAADU/fAAqKPjtklI/s72-c/Morrissey3RETNA2401_468x340.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3451452505783168805</id><published>2009-04-23T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:32:50.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dearest Madam Mozza #19</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfEhVfw2jGI/AAAAAAAAADM/2UNNYmh4MEE/s1600-h/morrissey_av04_07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328076487343377506" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfEhVfw2jGI/AAAAAAAAADM/2UNNYmh4MEE/s400/morrissey_av04_07.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dearest Madam Mozza,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, it's exactly one and a half hours until I'm able to set eyes on the most important, most beautiful, most perfect, well, i can just go on and on can I? person i have ever seen. I know you probably receive incredible amounts of letters and I can only pray that this little insignificant piece of paper will reach your fingertips; I'll write just in case. Allow me to write more about you, since I've already been nosey enough to find every piece of literature and beauty about you, although I'm sure I don't have a clue. Anyway, I have to write this,Otherwise I'd run straight into the ARCHES'. It was myspace in 2008 and that's when I became a part of the culturally confused portion of your following, well, just like me "MORRISSEY". I'm sure that all of your friends tell you that you are "crazy" they can't never relate to "MORRISSEY" like me and you. everything he write and says in interviews makes perfect sence to me and you I'm sure! I'll hope you assume all of those types of things. It does feel as though when i call you "Angel" that you intended to save my life. God, that sounds selfish. Anyway, I hope I'll sound different so that maybe I can somehow reach you. And I hope to God you haven't stopped reading because you think I'm unintelligent or too young. Please give me a chance to be your friend well, something more. I'm afraid that what I write will seem so insignificant and shallow that you will just laugh and go on to the next letter. I hope you don't mind if for a second I pay you some of my sincerest, deepest compliments because you deserve them. You are the most PERFECT, mysterious, sensual, intelligent, compassionate, beautiful, interesting, original girl in the world according to me. I have this fantasy of getting past the realities in life (I'm a man) of having you in order to survive and then devoting my whole life to seeking you out and having a life-long friendship with you, if you'd have me as your friend that is. You're probably thinking "what an overconfident, little brat". I want to know about you, and I want you to know that I'm listening when you spoke. What you have to say is very valuable to my existence. I want to be "alone" w&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpBpGCtQMI/AAAAAAAAAHo/yFTK-bK-zIg/s1600-h/l_4756b210e0db347ccebc29f79b12ce4d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330645283198812354" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpBpGCtQMI/AAAAAAAAAHo/yFTK-bK-zIg/s400/l_4756b210e0db347ccebc29f79b12ce4d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ith you, because I too am surrounded by people and am totally alone. When I read your eyes, your words just seem to exude pain. I as a loyal man can't bear to watch you suffer without trying to put an end to it. Let me into your world, please. Let someone in. I want to take care of you and hold you if you cry. After the trauma you've withstood for all these years, it's no wonder you seem numb. I have feelings for you that I've never felt for another human being. I probably sound like a bad, top 40 love song right about now so I'll stop. I'm in love with you and you'll never hear me. Anyway, you're the best human on my list if counts for anything and I love you. Goodbye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I say it all the time...but I've never meant something more in my life, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. A day without Morrissey is a miserable one.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3451452505783168805?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3451452505783168805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3451452505783168805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dearest-madam-mozza-hello-its-exactly.html' title='Dearest Madam Mozza #19'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfEhVfw2jGI/AAAAAAAAADM/2UNNYmh4MEE/s72-c/morrissey_av04_07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6036500027767568879</id><published>2009-04-19T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:32:24.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dearest Pale Brown Eyes, (never strange to me) #18</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Seu2YD5eZXI/AAAAAAAAADE/eFrdW0D0GuI/s1600-h/morrisseyYoungHairstyle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 318px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326551508775232882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Seu2YD5eZXI/AAAAAAAAADE/eFrdW0D0GuI/s400/morrisseyYoungHairstyle.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dearest Pale Brown Eyes, (never strange to me)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah well, home is where the art is. I flew in from Cochella yesterday (but of course, dear!). Your glorious majestic presence there was so perfect I was more exited to see you than our beloved MORRISSEY, (as we young moderns call it) LOVE AT FIRST SITE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm flying back this Sunday for the poor cure, but really I'm coming back for you to see you, but until, I'm nesting here in mah old little house living on fresh air and grass. you looked very lovely i must say with that green MORRISSEY 101 shirt you had on. I notice the pin you also had on. your hair, your lips, your smile my,oh my. such a peaceful site. you just had it all and you knew this going in to the park, you knew you would steal all spot lights in my eyes. and our lovely MORRISSEY was great too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpBY5_r98I/AAAAAAAAAHg/g83OKaVIykU/s1600-h/l_3389bcaba87c0ffe435a50039d5e8e7b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330645005087012802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpBY5_r98I/AAAAAAAAAHg/g83OKaVIykU/s400/l_3389bcaba87c0ffe435a50039d5e8e7b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you come and visit me? Why don't I come and visit you? I'd love to see you over and over, you can't never be a dead cultural to me. or at least you should come down here for an hour and I could give you a tour of our Paris city, and after I've woken you up we could eat at my fave place, the Great American Disaster. Think about it. It can't be that expensive, and you're probably rolling in it anyway. So, what have you been doing? How long have you been doing it? And do you wash your hands when you've finished? Wake up, there's more! Yes, ah'm an artiste! How did you guess? I've just had a book published on Mrs. Gayle, I think that's you, you're reading it now. I'd love to send you a copy too, but I only have two myself. Watch out for my James Dean book. Such a torrid, crazy, insane life I lead! I am presently forming a group, in fact have done so. We are called Angels Are Genderless and are rehearsing as soon as my jet-lag subsides. So, what's exciting in YOUR life, young petite-girl-pale skin?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that the 'YEARS OF REFUSAL' 45 got to No.98, but the web says it made it to No.197. Someone is lying! Ve haff vays to find ze truth! It's a terrible bore that "carol" is not the next single. I'm glad you bought and liked "YEARS OF REFUSAL". Such a refined record too, esp "All that is my own". Since you ask, the US music scene is a right! Even in New York they play all that you'd expect to hear - the stones, the Beatles, and Springsteen. Daring. "New wave" djs will risk lynching and play the Pretenders. I heard 'Cars' by Shirley Numan and it sounded glorious to me (yes, things were THAT bad). So strange to come back to grey old Los Angeles and see 13 year old boys with yellow hair. What could it all mean? And who are AFI anyway? Joe rogan bores the shit out of me. I just wanna kick his ASS!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Davey-boy isn't as recognized as he ought to be over yonder. Most people are still outraged at the mention of his name. I haven't been to the movies yet since Batman wow that's a long time, and won't rest until I do. The play, of course, was out of the question. Pernod! Smashing windows? You want taking in hand. What does your mother say about all this? You young Angel! But yes, I too sing along to David's records MORRISSEY - Cygnet Committee Unwashed &amp;amp; Slightly Dazed got me through February..... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tell me 'o wise thing, is there anyone sleeping in YOUR bed? You can tell me EVERYTHING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friend, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I wish this was my add.384 Kings Road Stretford Manchester m32-86w (061-881-7125) &lt;- No, I don't expect a phone-call, but then I don't expect ANYTHING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6036500027767568879?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6036500027767568879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6036500027767568879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dearest-pale-brown-eyes-never-strange.html' title='Dearest Pale Brown Eyes, (never strange to me) #18'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Seu2YD5eZXI/AAAAAAAAADE/eFrdW0D0GuI/s72-c/morrisseyYoungHairstyle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1480974257084457311</id><published>2009-04-14T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:31:49.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here,Now,and Then Dear Ada Lovelace, daughter of Lord Byron #17</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeUrcOjeruI/AAAAAAAAAC8/DoJHPRjItas/s1600-h/18morrisseycopyej2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 279px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324709898378718946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeUrcOjeruI/AAAAAAAAAC8/DoJHPRjItas/s400/18morrisseycopyej2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here,Now,and Then Dear Ada Lovelace, daughter of Lord Byron, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought I'd scribble out a few old words while I'm waiting for the oven to heat up. Thank you, Madam, for the Kind warm words in a card - I didn't think you're capable of anything quite so tasteful. You just never begin to amaze me! But no, it really isn't my burfday on December 25th - you're getting me confused with J.C., and it's good of you to bring him up to my level, but does he deserve it? Answer briefly.&lt;br /&gt;Your pole lilac is acceptable, you say you've only been writing to me for a few weeks and already you're progressing. I'm not the only one that can save you now. Oh yes, my lifestyle is very interesting - beyond description even. As Lord Howard once whinged; "sometimes I stand, and sometimes I sit". These are the quotes, folks. It's all these wild scenes in Manch&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpBGvSndfI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ijP99eOyKIs/s1600-h/l_107799e2e566414c96624a16142dc691.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330644692975973874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpBGvSndfI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ijP99eOyKIs/s400/l_107799e2e566414c96624a16142dc691.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ester, you know.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going out to the states to redeem the social outcasts. My only real ambition is to cultivate your looks. I love your lips,eyes and skin. You must watch "The wonder years", on BBC-America on Sunday. Do you have BBC-America up there? That show! It was my first real sexual relationship. To me seeing and loving a great show is like having a sexual relationship. Real Gothic, man (as the Greeks would say).&lt;br /&gt;Oh my! Yes, the poor Velvets! I spent my entire 12th year locked in my bedroom with "All tomorrow's parties"! I was such an incen&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpA53CRUNI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/dHKrbcwbsNc/s1600-h/l_89c0bbc4daee6934124486c7b3158903.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 371px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330644471716597970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpA53CRUNI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/dHKrbcwbsNc/s400/l_89c0bbc4daee6934124486c7b3158903.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;diary child. Morrissey's voice paralyses the imagination. I'll be your mirror, reflect what you are, in case you don't know. Ah yes, I remember it all well. As for the court of the Crimson King, well, I never did like Genesis. The Cure Live? Such a novelty! Poor Mr. Smith was never "live". Always insufficient wit, and how did "Walk on the Wild Side" get passed the BBC-America censors? TOTP even! Ah yes, I remember it well. You, of course, are far too young. Per nod after the breast? Very philosophic.&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no, you wouldn't want to go to Moscow. It's far too draughty . Big countries are. And you would be completely lost in Germany. Think of all the intellectual pressure? I'd rather imagine you in say, Floripa or Buenos Aries. And wouldn't the Australian bush be better than Glasgow? England is very like America - except, of course, for the language.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know Orange Juice, (I do read my paper, y'know). Such lovable hair-do's. Nostalgic. About 3 people turned up. The group were appalling and I'll know better next time. On Tuesday I saw The Motels remember them. Why? Don't ask silly questions. This has been a bad week. Bowie on K-Tel! and Morrissey this Friday in Cochella Are you ready for THAT? Of all revolting labels on God's dear earth.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I love jazz (IE Ludus). I wish you wouldn't mention Miss cut-copy. Or, should I say "Miss Thing". I dislike him more than I can tell you. People with receding hairlines never know much about anything. And such ugly shoe-taste too. You ought to be ashamed! Why don't you repent by rushing down to your mega-store and buying OMD'S "SUGAR TAX" or Erasure "I SAY,I SAY,I SAY" - or even U2 "Joshua tree"? If you leave now you'll just be in time for the next bus.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, celibacy is real hip (sister), but, "no man is an island" so the saying goeth. And haven't you HEARD about sexual repression? You'll probably end up strangling your mother or becoming some deranged bisexual psychopatic child-murderer. So sad about John. I almost cried. I have none of this records and didn't care about The Beatles. But when people who devote a part of their lives to 'peace' are shot 5 times for it, well, THAT disturbs me. It's always the wrong people. Nobody would assassinate our dear prime minister or president. Is all life sad? What are YOU going to do with your life? I always like to end my letters on a serious note.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be young, be foolish, and be happy. "NO SEX" Jay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I repeat: is your SMILE REAL?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.P.S. There isn't one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1480974257084457311?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1480974257084457311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1480974257084457311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/herenowand-then-dear-ada-lovelace.html' title='Here,Now,and Then Dear Ada Lovelace, daughter of Lord Byron #17'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeUrcOjeruI/AAAAAAAAAC8/DoJHPRjItas/s72-c/18morrisseycopyej2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1362229496527354746</id><published>2009-04-12T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T17:21:26.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Queen Elizabeth, of England #16</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeJOe_RH3KI/AAAAAAAAAC0/PH6UA74GEoQ/s1600-h/l_0d61819aa8121afdb0497af59f68b07c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 403px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323904003791641762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeJOe_RH3KI/AAAAAAAAAC0/PH6UA74GEoQ/s400/l_0d61819aa8121afdb0497af59f68b07c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Queen Elizabeth, of England,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So funny thing happened today on my way to see uncle Rob, I felt bad about you, don't know why I was gonna buy you a flower and put it in your car, and I went to pay for it and pulled out my wallet it's the first thing i saw so it must have been the first thing you saw too.&lt;br /&gt;I would have voted for you but, I wasn't sure that you'll be on the ballet. This town sux's the music is no good and the people talk funny. but I wanna congratulate you on making it legal to kiss you I cant wait to follow the law.&lt;br /&gt;Will you send me a picture of your eve costume? Do you HAVE a boyfriend?&lt;br /&gt;What exactly do you DO with your life anyway? You don't tell me ANYTHING. other than concerts.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpAT7FdjrI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Y9cK1eSJ5lc/s1600-h/l_f9a8fdea0b0703b3db0f827d244a9190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 293px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330643819968695986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpAT7FdjrI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Y9cK1eSJ5lc/s400/l_f9a8fdea0b0703b3db0f827d244a9190.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a fab film on T.V. america on Saturday at 4:30, "Party of Five" with Neve Campbell.as the beautiful Miss Julia as created by the un-groovy people. Watch it with your beautiful eyes . Or perhaps you'll be too busy at the Virgin mega-store? Wake up at the back there.&lt;br /&gt;Have you filled in your Morrissey poll sheet yet? Ha ha (yawn). Are there any local groups up there worth writing home to mother about?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I really must watch Beth Hart in concert on mal, do you like her? tee-vee. Write to me soon and try to smile it looks good on you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morrissey Saved My Life, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Morrissey has made it very clear that their wouldn't be a Smith reunion. I just hope that he keeps to it. Not that I wouldn't love to see the Smiths but Morrissey has stated that he would eat his own testicles before he would reunite the Smiths. I don't want to see him reunite for money or for publicity. It's like The Cure who stated that they would break up in 2000, then made about 3 albums after that. Now they are going to collaborate with Ashlee Simpson??!!?! WTF!? That really makes me not respect them anymore(not that I thought the Cure were ever great).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1362229496527354746?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1362229496527354746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1362229496527354746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-queen-elizabeth-of-england-so.html' title='Dear Queen Elizabeth, of England #16'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeJOe_RH3KI/AAAAAAAAAC0/PH6UA74GEoQ/s72-c/l_0d61819aa8121afdb0497af59f68b07c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6279234886354052436</id><published>2009-04-11T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:31:07.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December,January,March,June,October What ever month i wish it was, 1981 Dear Mrs.Bowie #15</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeDUKD_MoRI/AAAAAAAAACk/Vg6-uI6Bi8Q/s1600-h/IMG_1114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323488028886081810" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeDUKD_MoRI/AAAAAAAAACk/Vg6-uI6Bi8Q/s400/IMG_1114.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;December,January,March,June,October What ever month i wish it was, 1981 Dear Mrs.Bowie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you most sincerely (Real) for your letter, which was an education in itself. Like Shakespeare before you, you stir a place in my heart unstirred since, well, I don't have to tell you EVERYTHING, do I? Oh, and thank you for your photo. It came in handy until the plumber arrived it killed everything hehe. Did you know you had a live caterpillar on your lip? Real deco, sweetheart. You could have smiled and made it even more beautiful but it's dreadfully unfashionable, isn't it? Observe the enclosed piccy of your author, disguised as an artiste. This photograph is suitable for framing. Incidentally your real name IS Goddess, isn't it? Everyone in California is either too thin or to fat or terrible. but you are just (PERFECT) Have you got a real Beverly Hills accent? How novel! Why don't you join a traveling circus? I'm honoured that you liked my writing paper. As for your paper, well, it's very blue. Are you really a protestant? How sad. You'll never know the joys of the church in that case? Wouldn't you just LOVE to kiss the Pope's feet? Spider and I? Piffle me girl. There Gops Concorde? Sputter-butter. Vienna? Hogwash. It's a good job you have me around to provide continual cultivation. sorry is just the Morrissey in me. Everybody has a Mozzer in them.&lt;br /&gt;Your mentioning Pernod brings me back to the "You are the Quarry" tour (I discovered they drink then.) These d&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpAB_MWY4I/AAAAAAAAAHA/RjSFHyoNz_Y/s1600-h/n518965874_372325_5398.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330643511833682818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfpAB_MWY4I/AAAAAAAAAHA/RjSFHyoNz_Y/s400/n518965874_372325_5398.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ays it's strictly cinzano, or vodra they are (DRINKS) "ANGEL". But yes, I'm missing Mae terribly (Beer? What an insult!) And to think she was only 88...such a waste.&lt;br /&gt;No, I wouldn't wish to terminate our astral relationship. You are, I'll admit, a curious psychological study, and I'm sure you have a sense of humour...somewhere. Nope, we're not close to the blast, so don't worry your little brain. People have been panicking about The Bomb since the early 50's. Things haven't changed.&lt;br /&gt;But if it does drop, well, meet me on the desert shore (as the old song goeth).&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever traveled anywhere overseas? Have you ever been to Manchester? Have you ever been to, or would you like to go to, the boring old Italy? I'm going back there on Jan 15th. Yipee well, I've never been. Away from this godforsaken place. I'll be going to New York first, and then on to Colorado where I'll be living. I'll give you my address there as I hope you'll continue to mesmerize me with your pushing intellect. I'll miss Coronation Street and I'll miss The Simpsons (Yes, I watch it damnit), but I WON'T miss Reality T.V. I hate that so much.&lt;br /&gt;From the desk that Support's my hand to write this letter, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. if she is beautiful, if she's a lesbian, if she's crazy, if she is scary etc, etc. I don't know why so many people don't have the ability to see, the true of beauty that this woman can transmit, after all we are humans and if we could see beyond our hearts there is no skin, no color, no status, no race, just one soul that feels. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6279234886354052436?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6279234886354052436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6279234886354052436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/decemberjanuarymarchjuneoctober-what.html' title='December,January,March,June,October What ever month i wish it was, 1981 Dear Mrs.Bowie #15'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SeDUKD_MoRI/AAAAAAAAACk/Vg6-uI6Bi8Q/s72-c/IMG_1114.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7368208084641889892</id><published>2009-04-10T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:30:45.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, Mrs. Cleopatra "As Julia would tell you, occasionally I sing that song in tune, and it's much better..." #14</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd_pK6HxmBI/AAAAAAAAACU/-VoTvdjy-6k/s1600-h/mozlay1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323229658185046034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd_pK6HxmBI/AAAAAAAAACU/-VoTvdjy-6k/s400/mozlay1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, Mrs. Cleopatra "As Julia would tell you, occasionally I sing that song in tune, and it's much better..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what burning waxings that presently turn me on (babee); &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo-VGNlH0I/AAAAAAAAAG4/h6btB2nS3Lw/s1600-h/n518965874_794052_7774.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 328px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330641641112149826" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo-VGNlH0I/AAAAAAAAAG4/h6btB2nS3Lw/s400/n518965874_794052_7774.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Amber (Morrissey) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Leave (R.E.M.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seasick, Yet Still Docked (Morrissey)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rockin in the free World (Neil Young &amp;amp; Pearl Jam) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday (David Bowie) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love Song For A Vampire (Annie Lennox) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Knives Out (Radiohead) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fade Into You (Mazzy Star)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you get out much? Or do you watch television all week? You really don't tell me much about yourself. Are you catholic,Jewish or what? The questions are getting desperatesville. Who are you anyway? I know absolutely NOTHING about you. Maybe it's just as well, Are you a nice person? Are your parents rich? Do you smoke (I supposed you do)? Failure to answer these questions may result in prosecution. I wish you'd send me not a photo but yourself. I like to see who I'm criticising. Oh well, I'm off upstairs to play "Love Jesus"! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your good friend of friends, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love is a stranger In an open car To tempt you in And drive you far away. Its savage and its cruel And it shines like destruction Comes in like the flood And it seems like religion Its noble and its brutal It distorts and deranges And it wrenches you up And you're left like a Love zombie."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7368208084641889892?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7368208084641889892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7368208084641889892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/well-mrs.html' title='Well, Mrs. Cleopatra &quot;As Julia would tell you, occasionally I sing that song in tune, and it&apos;s much better...&quot; #14'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd_pK6HxmBI/AAAAAAAAACU/-VoTvdjy-6k/s72-c/mozlay1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8339621198333674161</id><published>2009-04-09T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:30:13.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear, Founder of Good looks #13</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd6sHAB6OGI/AAAAAAAAACM/Sicmez18WZ4/s1600-h/0DSC00725.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322881045865576546" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd6sHAB6OGI/AAAAAAAAACM/Sicmez18WZ4/s400/0DSC00725.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear, Founder of Good looks,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your letter which had everything I knew it would have with the English language as we know it. I shall light a candle for you this Sunday - how else could you be saved?&lt;br /&gt;This world business is really gripping I just can't wait to get it completed (yawn).&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the photo. Has anyone ever told you that you look like the FAMOUS you? You sound and look like a real fun kiddo. The postcard was a scream - I feel asleep reading it. Is it too late to ignore your Sounds voice? haha.....&lt;br /&gt;So, you don't think I'm insane? Coming from you this isn't too encouraging (wink,wink). I'm convinced that you're insane just like me. I'm usually right about these things.&lt;br /&gt;Today I bought the "Achtung Baby" by U2. It's a lovely record, but I feel I would enjoy it much more if I had you next to me. Actually, I have your picture. Are YOU "that n' gorgeous"?&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry the record got lost. That sounds very careless. I wish I could lose mine&lt;br /&gt;What End music d&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo97qRh0-I/AAAAAAAAAGw/m0FIbSOv2NY/s1600-h/l_7a8fece9e03f4c91b4421ee09b471ee9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330641204115788770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo97qRh0-I/AAAAAAAAAGw/m0FIbSOv2NY/s400/l_7a8fece9e03f4c91b4421ee09b471ee9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;oth you dig? I have always considered "NEW ADVENTURES, TEN and VIVA HATE" to be one of the best albums ever, and "Under the influence" is fab too. As for old Uncle Bowie - "Heathen" must be his 'meisterwork' Im too into it. As for 'BICAMERAL' (everyone knows what this means, schmock-face), why not observe the run-off of 'Boy's Keep Swinging'? Heavens above!&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me you take acid! or have you? I might have known you're so typically 1980,90's. As for the "??? for me", well, such things are beneath discussion. I supposed you like "sex" too, and masturbate to pictures of oh! SO typical.&lt;br /&gt;Since you so politely ask, in my spare time I waltz around sunny wanna be Manchester in Los Angeles looking sultry, overeducated, and kinda deco (whatever that means). I consider it my only real purpose in life to look as bored as humanly possible. I'm SO old-fashioned. are you the same in so many ways we are the same. and i don't even like you sonny/Penny Lane/Marie Antoinette/Miss. Gold/Founder of Goodlooks/ANGEL. so many names for you and more to come.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ever people say I am, that's what I'm not, Forever, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The neverending of you, has gone to an all time high.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8339621198333674161?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8339621198333674161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8339621198333674161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-founder-of-good-looks-thank-you.html' title='Dear, Founder of Good looks #13'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd6sHAB6OGI/AAAAAAAAACM/Sicmez18WZ4/s72-c/0DSC00725.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4129549110261004488</id><published>2009-04-08T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:29:52.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Miss. Gold  #12</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd1FZ5vV7MI/AAAAAAAAACA/pnSn7daIaHE/s1600-h/6a00e54ffb97e6883400e5515050c18834-800wi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 322px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322486645920230594" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd1FZ5vV7MI/AAAAAAAAACA/pnSn7daIaHE/s400/6a00e54ffb97e6883400e5515050c18834-800wi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well Miss. Gold, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fancy seeing you here. Surprise, surprise... as always, is the sight of the night... How are you?&lt;br /&gt;What would you like to know about Brasil, you beautiful song? Don't tell me you've never been! you should see my face as i said that haha... Every empty soul has been to Brasil (and incidentally, only the uneducated say "Brazil", the hip lingo specialists say "Brasilia", baby.)&lt;br /&gt;What are your favorite films? What's your fave color? Answers on a postcard please.&lt;br /&gt;As for your medical dentist, I just hope it turns out to be pornographic. Why don't you send me a nice photograph? Isn't that what we're supposed to do?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I don't know if you read the music press but if you do, you will know... (Morrissey 'You know him, that singer we both love') said "Am I really so obvious? Yesss..." so MORRISSEY LIKE.....funny!&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for listening. Thank you for standing while you read this. I know how you just hate to sit... but you ha&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo9ovh_faI/AAAAAAAAAGo/mKDaiKK9qrM/s1600-h/502208730_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 227px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330640879109504418" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo9ovh_faI/AAAAAAAAAGo/mKDaiKK9qrM/s400/502208730_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ve to be up for work tomorrow... (no! yes!) You have to be at McDonald's sharp to eat flesh... oh yes!" Thank you for being so kind... Please, don't forget me, don't forget Pres. Bush, don't forget Ophelia, don't forget Jesus, don't forget Bowie, AND PLEASE don't forget Morrissey. I love you!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-no one in particular, but include, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4129549110261004488?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4129549110261004488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4129549110261004488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/well-miss.html' title='Well Miss. Gold  #12'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sd1FZ5vV7MI/AAAAAAAAACA/pnSn7daIaHE/s72-c/6a00e54ffb97e6883400e5515050c18834-800wi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-8396822049724910695</id><published>2009-04-07T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:29:25.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Marie Antoinette., Queen of France and of Navarre #11</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SdwJTofqtZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/O-wkZ307QJI/s1600-h/MorrisseySB054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 293px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322139092537488786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SdwJTofqtZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/O-wkZ307QJI/s400/MorrisseySB054.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Marie Antoinette., Queen of France and of Navarre. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So pleased that you enjoyed my last letter/ text. Why don't you just admit that every word I write fascinates you? It would save so much time. The nicest thing I can say about you is that you exist. I consider it my puristic duty as self-elected chairman of our National League of Deceny to cultivate your mind at once. My only fear is that it may already be too late...&lt;br /&gt;It was a terrible blow to hear that you actually worked my god why?. I didn't think anyone did so anymore. It's so old-fashioned to work. I'd much rather lounge about the house all day looking fascinating. I'd rather look fascinating than have a permanent income. Am I insane?&lt;br /&gt;It was very considerate of your parents to make you so well, I add perfect. Are they fond of little gorgeous thing? And as for your being the youngest child, well, don't you know that "THE YOUNGEST IS THE MOST LOVED" I like Radiohead also, especially the OK computer &amp;amp; Pablo Honey and 'Natalie Merchant'. Also, Simon. I love 'Bookends', it must be his best album ever. I have most of their stuff, and I've seen them 3 times. met him too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your interest in autolux is surely the result of having nothing to do. I still love you. I hate, loathe, detest, abhor, abominate, cannot stand or abide Miss Mariah Carry. To me, all electronic music is just a sad accident well not Depeche Mode, they are good. So, you had an "exciting package from me "; The one I send via mail. did you tell your friend that you had an exciting gift from me? Of course you did!&lt;br /&gt;You ask if I'm interested in Art. Well, there's art and there's Art. Do you mean paintings, or creative writing? I am interested in films which are Art to me, and also, BOOKS, and some 'music'...&lt;br /&gt;It's interesting about your friend Jen, a big Morrissey fan. Are all your friends like this? Incidentally a fan?, I saw you on facebook last week - but why did you choose the name d.gold? It's nice of you to bring Morrisse&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo9MODhtoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/XGCimBvdvjY/s1600-h/344209093_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 321px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330640389087016578" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo9MODhtoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/XGCimBvdvjY/s400/344209093_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y's writimg up to my level, but he really doesn't deserve it. And why do you say you like "MIA" why? she's so far from good. "It was really nice knowing you" so many ?'s....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write soon please, there's a good boy here that can't wait to read.&lt;br /&gt;Sometime in the late '90s, Jay &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. your royal palace is so therapeutic &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-8396822049724910695?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8396822049724910695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/8396822049724910695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-marie-antoinette.html' title='Dear Marie Antoinette., Queen of France and of Navarre #11'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SdwJTofqtZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/O-wkZ307QJI/s72-c/MorrisseySB054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-6375670662274074525</id><published>2009-04-05T20:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:29:05.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Mrs. Penny Lane #10</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sdl61FSUCSI/AAAAAAAAABw/GXpwT3O8GYM/s1600-h/1796769563_8ebfbd1bb7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321419487085594914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sdl61FSUCSI/AAAAAAAAABw/GXpwT3O8GYM/s400/1796769563_8ebfbd1bb7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Mrs. Penny Lane&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You say you listen to "electronic bands". Does that mean every and cut-copy? If so, it was very nice knowing you...&lt;br /&gt;Besides Bowie, I dribble over Morrissey, Gaz, Alain, Boz, Spencer. Have you heard these people? I know you have I'm just being silly! with you silly!&lt;br /&gt;Do you get many replies to your fab eyes? Anyone as fascinating as me? Don't answer that.&lt;br /&gt;Did you see vintage Bowie on the R,S, 70's review? we are to young for that and I know Bowie is not big on you but, I still like to bring up his name as if you didn't know that by now. Almost funny if the rest of the programme wasn't such an obvious self-gratification slot for Mother Harris. Nice to see R.E.M., do you like R.E.M? and weren't Roxy Music just Fab City?&lt;br /&gt;So, which is your most treasured Morrissey waxing? Or is it possible to say? See, a whole 1/4 page without an insult!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo8NE5eS_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/_yoe9NGgsy4/s1600-h/77116387_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 299px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330639304297171954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sfo8NE5eS_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/_yoe9NGgsy4/s400/77116387_l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Ah's losin' mah touch" as the late great Tallulah Bankhead once said. "Is all life sad?" as the late great Jayne Mansfield said. "Bye, bye, poncho!" I said that silly.&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad you enjoyed me in Rebel Without A Cause, if I was ever in it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love &amp;amp; trash, Jay - from the world that spins in a way i cant feel &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Did you see the reviews our beloved Morrissey is getting on this tour? I almost feel bad for him. it must be that hard to go up against music that sells, what a terrible generation it is now. do you agree?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. There is not one bad picture of you is there......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-6375670662274074525?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6375670662274074525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/6375670662274074525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-mrs.html' title='So Mrs. Penny Lane #10'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sdl61FSUCSI/AAAAAAAAABw/GXpwT3O8GYM/s72-c/1796769563_8ebfbd1bb7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-322210599445005366</id><published>2009-04-05T14:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:28:36.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Angel #9</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sdknk82xsVI/AAAAAAAAABo/OP-RfB8avG0/s1600-h/3231650915_accfe0dbf7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 399px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321327950479602002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sdknk82xsVI/AAAAAAAAABo/OP-RfB8avG0/s400/3231650915_accfe0dbf7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Angel, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank you for your smile, Sunny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was--on my way to see you because I knew you would be there.......God, I thought I was gonna have an ocean.....to think about what I wanted to say to you, and I needed to say. I used to believe -- well I mean I, still do. That if you give something or someone your all, your best, everything you have, It doesn't matter if you win or loose. As long as you risked everything, put everything out there for that one shoot of happiness, eternal love. And I think I know I have done that. I did it in my life. I did it....with my heart. And I want it with you. I wanna hold you You may not believe that. And the day I say that I don't need you, that's the day that I will need you the most and I know you will feel the same. Because you too will need me the most. I had a night that should have been the biggest night of my life, and it wasn't because you weren't there. The piece to my puzzle was missing, you complete me, you surround me. So I just wanted to tell you, Not so you change your mind or keep you from going'. But just that you know -- that &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf4oxDtqAAI/AAAAAAAAAKA/pITDVYePr34/s1600-h/l_b86bde4e1dc543b84df8e69db581a425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331743832128749570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sf4oxDtqAAI/AAAAAAAAAKA/pITDVYePr34/s400/l_b86bde4e1dc543b84df8e69db581a425.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know. That I need you....... You know I've seen Scarey Bowie 2 times, or more I think, but really, and I can't even remember because all I can remember is my visit to your home. However, the fact remains that I have (and, as the great Dr. Phyliss Chessler M.D. once said, "facts speak louder than statistics".) I saw Him first on July 9, 2000, and last on september 8, 2007. Why is it so impossible? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From this end always, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-322210599445005366?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/322210599445005366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/322210599445005366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-angel-id-thank-you-for-your-smile.html' title='Dear Angel #9'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sdknk82xsVI/AAAAAAAAABo/OP-RfB8avG0/s72-c/3231650915_accfe0dbf7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-9120595426297575699</id><published>2009-03-29T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T15:40:28.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Penny Lane Morrissey #8</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc-0C58CHEI/AAAAAAAAABg/m_KHNNPWdtg/s1600-h/moz5564.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 302px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318667646953200706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc-0C58CHEI/AAAAAAAAABg/m_KHNNPWdtg/s400/moz5564.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The first time that I met you&lt;br /&gt;It was clear to see that I was meant for you&lt;br /&gt;and you were meant for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You looked to be so sweet, so honest, so pure, so true. I wanted to fall to my knees I wanted to be the concrete your feet walk on.&lt;br /&gt;I saw you very secretly my feelings began to grow in seconds. I wanted to tell the world but I know they would not understand. I often dream of holding you. of someday taking someones place.&lt;br /&gt;But I can't tell it will never be unless you get some space, some space to breathe some time to live, sometime to think things through&lt;br /&gt;Some time to see just how much I feel and care for you.&lt;br /&gt;Don't ever doubt me my love; I'll always be sincere.&lt;br /&gt;When all others fail I'll be here with my arms wide open.&lt;br /&gt;The world is big and I found you, for it is the best found I have ever found........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In poverty, &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkLk8KnuAI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Yv9zO3SUME4/s1600-h/l_2da6b7d08544ba865ffb20174e504471.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330304363223562242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkLk8KnuAI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Yv9zO3SUME4/s400/l_2da6b7d08544ba865ffb20174e504471.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-9120595426297575699?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/9120595426297575699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/9120595426297575699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/03/in-2008-guy-named-jay-was-stab-with.html' title='Penny Lane Morrissey #8'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc-0C58CHEI/AAAAAAAAABg/m_KHNNPWdtg/s72-c/moz5564.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-1734297847875760857</id><published>2009-03-28T12:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:26:47.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>seasick yet still docked #7</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc5_Cq_qIrI/AAAAAAAAABY/UxflKLlWx3Q/s1600-h/n532875387_2002712_4317445.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318327893848892082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc5_Cq_qIrI/AAAAAAAAABY/UxflKLlWx3Q/s400/n532875387_2002712_4317445.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;seasick yet still docked................................am a poor freezingly cold soul So far from where I intended to go Scavenging through life's very constant lulls So far from where I'm determined to go Wish I knew the way to reach the one I love There is no way ... Wish I had the charm to attract the one I love But you see, I've got no charm Mmm...Tonight I've consumed much more than I can hold Oh, this is very clear to you And you can tell I have never really loved You can tell, by the way, I sleep all day And all of my life no-one gave me anything No-one has ever given me anything My love is as sharp as a needle in &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkLJNfJIUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/EmXqweCWE6g/s1600-h/n518965874_1545582_7126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330303886836703554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkLJNfJIUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/EmXqweCWE6g/s400/n518965874_1545582_7126.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;your eye You must be such a fool to pass me by...&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBO2hJmjz6M"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBO2hJmjz6M&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-1734297847875760857?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1734297847875760857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/1734297847875760857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/03/seasick-yet-still-docked.html' title='seasick yet still docked #7'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc5_Cq_qIrI/AAAAAAAAABY/UxflKLlWx3Q/s72-c/n532875387_2002712_4317445.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-3883320392929602715</id><published>2009-03-27T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:26:21.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>search for someone to love #6</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc2fASc1r0I/AAAAAAAAABQ/hRiZ56k144w/s1600-h/bedwall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318081562296037186" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc2fASc1r0I/AAAAAAAAABQ/hRiZ56k144w/s400/bedwall.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All our young life. we search for someone to love, someone who makes us feel good, special and complete. in search of a soul that understands us. we choose partners a&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkKrydRLWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/_16XqInfYmE/s1600-h/l_3066dfb406ed5e62fc02de0db2f90678.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330303381364878690" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkKrydRLWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/_16XqInfYmE/s400/l_3066dfb406ed5e62fc02de0db2f90678.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nd change partners we cry, we laugh we dance to songs of love, desire, fantasies and hope. we carve on trees phone each other for hours drink of secred fountains. All but while wondering if somewhere somehow there is someone perfect out there who might be searching for us.............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-3883320392929602715?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3883320392929602715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/3883320392929602715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-our-young-life.html' title='search for someone to love #6'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sc2fASc1r0I/AAAAAAAAABQ/hRiZ56k144w/s72-c/bedwall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4586386998103090554</id><published>2009-03-16T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:25:59.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Natural beauty #5</title><content type='html'>She walked my dream in a spring stage, it seemed to me No makeup on her face Natural beauty takes its place in her.......&lt;br /&gt;She walked my dr&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkJep4EGvI/AAAAAAAAAFo/kSPaUXrMsQE/s1600-h/n518965874_1177498_4448.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330302056211421938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkJep4EGvI/AAAAAAAAAFo/kSPaUXrMsQE/s400/n518965874_1177498_4448.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;eam In her Morrissey shirt, of sights to see All the birds, lotus, and the children of the woeld They crowded around her&lt;br /&gt;Have I been blind have I been lost Inside the beauty of her eyes...... Hypnotized, mesmerized by what I seen In her&lt;br /&gt;She moved in me In a spectacle of wealth and poverty With her "Diamond" eyes. I take out the scarlet welcome carpet That I just rolled out just for her........&lt;br /&gt;She walked my dream with her wings up above her made a wild-eyed man of me.... She sings of her traffic island I stopped and I came to her&lt;br /&gt;Have I &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313934383680638658" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sb7jKuMEzsI/AAAAAAAAABI/MYflPI2mcJc/s400/Morrissey-The-More-You-Igno-26913.jpg" /&gt;been blind, have I been lost in the deep end of her eyes Have I been Hypnotized, mesmerized by what I have have seen in her In the BEAUTY of her looks.....that great dream of mine, in that "PENNY LANE"...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4586386998103090554?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4586386998103090554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4586386998103090554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-walked-my-dream-in-spring-stage-it.html' title='Natural beauty #5'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkJep4EGvI/AAAAAAAAAFo/kSPaUXrMsQE/s72-c/n518965874_1177498_4448.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-4702833558403543255</id><published>2009-03-15T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:25:41.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The first Morrissey concert #4</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sb2VICwN_eI/AAAAAAAAABA/Fkcht2FGBXA/s1600-h/Mozzer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 212px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313567100777659874" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sb2VICwN_eI/AAAAAAAAABA/Fkcht2FGBXA/s320/Mozzer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 9, 1999 Coachella California. The first Morrissey concert I ever attended. And i remember it like if it was just yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;Well what can I say ?This was a fucking amazing concert. For the Morrissey set I stood in the front row, centre-stage. Morrissey came out at 9 pm and played for two hours (when I say two hours I mean two hours , not an hour 59 minutes not two hours 1 minute) this was timed to perfection. Morrissey wore a brown suit, pink shirt, Doc shoes, and that necklace/pendant thingy from the Vauxhall and I album.&lt;br /&gt;The set contained only one Smiths song, London, which I heard him play 3 times at the sound-check which we could barely here because of the traffic and the poxy rain !. Anyway, the goose pimples are only just beginning to die down (OOPS ! spoke too soon ). Most of the set was from the Oye! Estevan Southpaw Grammar and Vauxhall but he also played National Front Disco and We'll Let You Know. He didn't play Sunny though, DAMN. The back-drop was Cornelius Carr and Morrissey kept pointing to it during Boy Racer. He also kept wiggling his finger at fly level during the " .. whole world in his hands" line. hehe....&lt;br /&gt;quite a few people got on stage. morrissey, and even the bouncers, were helping people up. At the end of the set he sai&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkI4QGfV5I/AAAAAAAAAFg/2F3yGaHwQQw/s1600-h/l_8de1694f07c435ccf9e12457d7cd1fa5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330301396457576338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkI4QGfV5I/AAAAAAAAAFg/2F3yGaHwQQw/s400/l_8de1694f07c435ccf9e12457d7cd1fa5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d "Thank you for your continuing warm welcome and we hope to see you back here again soon" Here's hoping eh?He didn't say much else during the show "Me ? Are you sure ? Ohhhhhh""Yes yes YES YES YES YES YES YES YES "During the feedback bit of National Front Disco he took his jacket off, tied it around his waist, then took his shirt off and rubbed himself all over before throwing it to the crowd. ( Didn't get any of it though!) Dam!&lt;br /&gt;This was the most perfect night in my entire life. I couldn't take my eyes off him, as if they were glued to him at all times . I remember telling myself "If Morrissey was not Morrissey, would i be Morrissey?". He sings my life as if he knows me some how. The way he moves on stage and his quotes are words that i normally use. If i wasn't listening to Morrissey i don't know what i would be listening to today..........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MORRISSEY made a dream out of you, Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-4702833558403543255?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4702833558403543255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/4702833558403543255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/03/october-9-1999-coachella-california.html' title='The first Morrissey concert #4'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/Sb2VICwN_eI/AAAAAAAAABA/Fkcht2FGBXA/s72-c/Mozzer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-96421071550664365</id><published>2009-03-14T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T15:36:58.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU ARE EVERYTHING... #3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxsfIJr0MI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Vg_xVcvtBz0/s1600-h/2221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 235px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313240942410191042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxsfIJr0MI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Vg_xVcvtBz0/s320/2221.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never felt like this with anyone before you only have to smile and I'm dizzy, crazy!&lt;br /&gt;you make the year go like water into the sea I think of you a thousand times a minute just send me a text and send me spinning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you show me &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;MORRISSEY&lt;/span&gt; and I'm crying you hold my eyes in your hand and open up the world I can't believe all this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to keep this feeling deep inside of me&lt;br /&gt;I want you always in my heart you are everything.&lt;br /&gt;The world has to offer&lt;br /&gt;you fill my head all full of you and all the rainbows is&lt;br /&gt;is every step you take is to be with you forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to keep this feeling deep inside of me I want you always in my arms you are everything.......YOU ARE EVERYTHING!......................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up and what do I see, all of you always, Jay....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkIXe7zauI/AAAAAAAAAFY/s4pQ6chtK9A/s1600-h/n518965874_652649_1450.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330300833503603426" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkIXe7zauI/AAAAAAAAAFY/s4pQ6chtK9A/s400/n518965874_652649_1450.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-96421071550664365?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/96421071550664365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/96421071550664365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-is-my-phone-conversation-with.html' title='YOU ARE EVERYTHING... #3'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxsfIJr0MI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Vg_xVcvtBz0/s72-c/2221.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7631917865364099908.post-7322384456707933436</id><published>2009-03-14T17:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:25:04.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MOST LASTING PROOF OF THE HUMAN GENIUS #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxH4k-45XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/WFFTxVgGNBA/s1600-h/oohlahlah1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 225px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313200697716041074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxH4k-45XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/WFFTxVgGNBA/s320/oohlahlah1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the years pass by and everything is lost,after the ice caps have melted..and the ocean has risen to drown so many cities along the shorelines of the world. forever lost and millions of people were displace. but your image will live on to never fade away. your mark in the world is place. In order for one human soul, to love another human soul. they must understand each other. "what did u feel." he says "i don't understand." she said "what did i do to your feelings." "you did it to my heart." But if love is real, then wouldn't it be a fact--a flat fact? our true love does exist in one place, and in one place only. At the end of the world where the lions weep. here is the place where dreams are born where reality doesn't kill.......Remember me "ANGEL" for the day your face grows very old and your hair turns white, remember me for the latest. where my biggest thing is that i will only want you even more. where 2,000 years pass by and u still look like the "ANGEL" i first meet and saw. you are very important, you are unique a (one of a kind) in all the world. "THE MOST LASTING PROOF OF THE H&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkHyUEAKSI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/XS8fUhBZaC8/s1600-h/n518965874_590444_1899.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330300194930043170" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SfkHyUEAKSI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/XS8fUhBZaC8/s400/n518965874_590444_1899.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;UMAN GENIUS." i only want for your happiness. my dearest "PENNEY LANE" i will one day close my eyes to go to the one place where (dreams are born) and the physical body means nothing only the feelings to one another. till then.............I'am,I was,I'll be, I care......thank you! for everything you have done....when all others fail I'll be here.....Don't put your heart in the hands of a beautiful face that throws it all away in the end......i wish i can keep writing more I said it before and I'll say it again "When it comes to you there is no end." Always: JAY...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7631917865364099908-7322384456707933436?l=curemoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7322384456707933436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7631917865364099908/posts/default/7322384456707933436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curemoz.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-years-pass-by-and-everything-is.html' title='THE MOST LASTING PROOF OF THE HUMAN GENIUS #2'/><author><name>jay_moz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12435061769590765173</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxWuRZ-yAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ArxRdTUXKpc/S220/untitled61.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RlBG-ZX4Eh4/SbxH4k-45XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/WFFTxVgGNBA/s72-c/oohlahlah1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
