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Everyone is eating luscious meals and dancing in the streets after the early part of the ceremonies which is to honour the dead, then celebrate their lives. It is a line from a cheery traditional-pop song called “Would you like to swing on a star? This merry ditty was introduced in the movie Going My Way by a famous American singer, Bing Crosby, an extraordinarily nice man by all accounts, at a terribly tough time in 1944. The first weekend in November which is just coming to an end now around much of the world, was somewhat black in many places where riots tangled up city streets. Wars were being fought in dozens of conflict areas.
Walking would take substantially longer, and in this scorching, shadeless heat, the journey by foot was vile. It didn’t stop Spy from feeling incredibly unsettled by Sniper’s foot-down approach to acceleration, nor did he feel particularly safe in a vehicle that spluttered like a teenager at prom. The Spy could not even feel wholly relaxed, squashed up with the broad-shouldered Medic in the shotgun loveseat. He was glad he was allowed to smoke, though it came with the stipulation of holding Sniper’s novelty ashtray in his lap. Finally, his eyes landed on the Soldier, who was.. Surprisingly quiet, in comparison to the soldiers Spy had met before.
Notes:
A tall man, wearing a BLU-issued sports hoodie and black sweatpants, was jogging casually from the outpost and glanced behind him at the approaching camper. The vehicle slowed down as it came in line with him, and the Sniper slid out his arm loosely from the driver’s window. The Soldier at least, was not squeezed in alongside them - instead opting to sit in the camper section of Sniper’s ‘Judy Girl’, enjoying whatever home comforts were inside. Judging by the muffled radio playing behind their heads and the jovial sounds of Soldier’s caterwauling, Spy figured this was the mercenary’s preferred method of travel. ” Soldier requested, his voice starkly gravelly and filled with a certain level of passion.
Bernie Taupin was 17 when he wrote the lyrics to Elton John's "Your Song." Looking back, he says it's "one of the most naïve and childish lyrics in the entire repertoire of music." Feist's "1234" is "about lost love, and the hope to recapture what you once had," but it's best known for the Sesame Street version about counting to four. Glenn Frey of the Eagles played a bad guy in a 1985 episode of Miami Vice based on his song "Smuggler's Blues." The song used in introductions by the Chicago Bulls and many other sports teams is "Sirius" by The Alan Parsons project, the opening track on the Eye In The Sky album. Sam Smith's "Writing's On The Wall" was the first ever James Bond theme song to reach #1 in the UK. Plus his version of "Amor" was at #4 at the time...
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A loud meow had Spy peering out from the makeshift shop, gaze dropping to the ground as a pair of cats prowled into the barn. They slunk directly to a small rubber mat on the floor, where large bowls of food and water were waiting. They didn’t seem to be soft, domesticated things - so they were likely to be working cats. ” Came the Demo’s sure response, as Spy casually began to stroll over to the loveseat - or rather, Heavy’s armchair.
The effort was appreciated all the same. Spy allowed his eyes to linger a little longer, but was soon distracted by the diverting of the tracks, leading the carriage closer to the formidable mountain. As the train drew to a stop alongside the wooden station, which, to be frank, looked far more like an unstable bus shelter than anything else, Spy rose out of his seat. His gloved hand wrapped around his singular black suitcase, as he placed a cigarette between his lips.
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Winston Churchill referred to depression as the little black dog that was always a few steps behind him. If you look at the photos of Churchill you can see the weight of his illness drawn on his face. He had what appears to be true clinical depression, but, who knows; the weight of World War II and a horrific childhood couldn’t have been much of a picnic for him. So whether he was clinically depressed or just sad I don’t know.
But for him and for any reader out there with balls of tear-soaked tissue wadded up in one’s robe pocket, I offer some personal advice. Heavy made a soft grunt in the back of his throat. The Heavy was hard at work, boxing gloves adorning his enormous hands as he pounded a thick, dense punching bag with gusto.
Through the window, he could see three figures - and judging by their uniforms, he deduced them to be a Soldier, a Medic, and a Sniper. Having a welcome committee was surprising enough, but then such a bizarre combination too? Turning his head to look into the ocean properly, Spy discovered a rudimentary dockyard, where, floating casually in the water, there was a moderately sized freighter ship. It was seated in front of a BLU building some distance away, which housed an aerial lift leading up to the architecture crowning Upward’s mountain. So this was where the bombs came from, Spy supposed.
The medigun, he knew, was heavier than it looked, and chasing after teammates for hours at a time would build a strong body on anyone. Something he was yet to see in any of his former BLU teams. Spy cast his eyes downwards once again at the manilla folder, contemplating the new base.
Ashton blinks, trying to direct his attention towards Orym, a task made harder by the pain pulsing behind his left eye. Orym’s holding up a red lace shawl made with yarn so fine that it almost floats like a cobweb. That’s 100 million people if you count all the Chinese and Russian civilian deaths. Songwriter Jimmy Van Heusen was at Crosby's house one evening for dinner, and to discuss a song for the film project Going My Way. During the meal, one of the children began complaining about how he did not want to go to school the next day. The singer turned to his son Gary and said to him, "If you don’t go to school, you might grow up to be a mule." Van Heusen thought this clever rebuke would make a good song for the film.
I’m not going to advise you about brain chemistry though. Please note that this article is not intended as medical advice. If you feel you or a family member needs help with emotional issues, then by all means seek qualified help. The Engineer was currently welding something or other, his short stature half turned away from Spy, and most of his face and neck covered by a welding hood. He was broad in shape, muscular - but it was profoundly functional in nature, revealing a strong back and shapely arms. As the flame dimmed out, Spy could hear the gentle singing of Perry Como, as 'Long Ago ' played distantly from the radio.
The doors to the workshop-cum-laboratory were already open, pegged that way by a hefty, makeshift doorstop, made of a chunk of battered and charred wood. Spy stubbed out his cigarette against one of the metal tables as he entered, as there was no way of knowing if he was creating a fire hazard by simply smoking. Considering this was also where the Demoman worked, there was a greater risk than not. The strong blow of the air conditioner as he entered the outpost was just short of euphoric, and Spy couldn’t help but pause in the doorway to feel it for a few moments longer.
The communal wardrobe was relatively organised, the railings long and partitioned by sheets of plastic. Each mercenary had their own space, though pyjamas and undergarments were missing consistently, indicating that they were taken to their temporary quarters week-by-week. The shoes were stored in strips of cubbies underneath, and though some of the mercenaries had simply thrown their boots and trainers within, most pairs were tidily stowed away. Overhead storage was similarly treated and was full of hats and other miscellaneous items, including jewellery, pieces of costume, and even in some cases, plush looking towels and handkerchiefs.
Sentimentality over a piece of decor was certainly... Interesting in an active warzone, but Spy held his tongue. It would be impolite to spit in Medic’s simpering eye. Judy’s wheels kicked up dust as she slowed to a stop, creating an unnecessarily dramatic billowing of sandy, amber clouds around the vehicle. Thankfully, the braking system was apparently in good order, as they parked sweetly and safely behind the cottage. “To be honest mate, as long as ya ain’t gonna up an’ ditch us, I don’t care if ya a master Spy or not,” Sniper interrupted, blunt and to the point.
” Spy inquired, opting to regard the Pyro in a similar way to the Medic - with careful, almost childlike consideration. He had witnessed senselessly angered pyros before, and though he did not get the impression that this was a short-tempered individual, it was not a wrath he would like to incur. Instead, offering to share something of mutual interest seemed like an excellent bonding opportunity. He set his ashtray down on the bedside table, and placed his suitcase carefully on the bed.
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