I think the lyrics quiz has run its course. Congratulations go out to ladystarlightsj, midnightsjane, londonkds, deevalish, dlgood, and buffyannotater. The remaining songs were:

3. "Dreams are strewn across the sand /
You won't need (you won't money) /
Oh no"
"The Road To Ruin" by The Libertines.

4. "Hip shakin' mama, I told ya /
I'm in love with only you /
Gotta, do it baby why don't ya /
I'll give ya everything you want."
"I Can't Turn You Loose" by Otis Redding.

9. "Jingling a wish coin that I stole from a fountain that was drowning all the cares in the world /
When I get older climbin up on the back porch fence just to see the dogs runnin."
"Go It Alone" by Beck.

I'm not all that surprised that these went unnamed -- I doubt very much that I would have recognized any of them. I might have known which album the Beck came from, but I definitely wouldn't have known the song title.

I've gathered all ten songs together and uploaded them to YouSendIt. There are now only 10 downloads allowed to non-members, so let me know if it runs out.

I feel a little guilty because I haven't been spending enough time with the one I really love, the one whom I can't live without; I'm speaking, of course, of my poor neglected mp3 player. However, since the October trip to Egypt, I've amassed a considerable playlist. Here are ten almost randomly selected lyrics from that playlist:

1. "You're the reason for the word 'bitch.' " (deevalish nails it as "Roses" by Outkast.)

2. "New York City really has it all."

3. "Dreams are strewn across the sand."

4. "Hip shakin' mama, I told ya."

5. "And don't try to dig what we all s-s-s-say." ("My Generation" by the Who, as identified originally by ladystarlightsj.)

6. "You'll always find us . . . out to lunch." (Correctly named by londonkds as the Sex Pistols' "Pretty Vacant.")

7. "Do things do things do things bad things with it."

8. "I like the Whopper, fuck the Big Mac."

9. "Jingling a wish coin that I stole from a fountain that was drowning all the cares in the world "

10. "Hugging like a monkey see, monkey do."

<FONT COLOR="white">Around your answers would be appreciated.</FONT>

Last night, I went downtown to see North By Northwest, preceeded by two of Chuck Jones's Merrie Melodies, at Cinema At The Square. I knew that the people behind me were trouble when, during "Little Beau Pepé," one of them loudly exclaimed "Oh my God!" when the black and white cat rubbed up against the freshly-painted ladder and ended up with a white streak down her back. I don't know what sort of cultural illiterate is surprised when, during a Pepé Le Pew cartoon, the cat ends up with white paint on her, but I hope that some sort of LiveJournal community exists to make her feel ignorant. These women continued to offer helpful commentary throughout the movie: when the bad guys have propped an intoxicated Cary Grant behind the wheel of a car on a precariously windy seacoast road, another woman said, "I think they're going to drive him off the cliff." And when the movie got to the establishing shot of the Indiana cornfield, and one of them said, "That's no man's land," I wanted to turn around and say, "For the next ten minutes, the movie will take place with practically no dialogue. Let's see if we can do the same." But I didn't, because I'm polite, genteel and cowardly.

North By Northwest is still one of my favorite movies; I was reminded last night that it, much more than the novels, set the framework for the James Bond movies. And there were some lines I didn't remember. Cary Grant saying to James Mason, Eva Marie Saint and Martin Landau "The three of you together -- now, that's a picture only Charles Addams could draw," at least had the ring of familiarity, but I have absolutely no recollection of ever before seeing Mason, captured by Leo G. Carroll and watching as the park ranger shoots Landau, saying, "That wasn't very sporting, using real bullets."

On a completely unrelated subject, I was tickled to read today's New York Times Magazine and find that it contains an "On Language" column by William Grimes which mentions Chez Panisse but not Alice Waters and a Food column which mentions Alice Waters but not Chez Panisse. I don't imagine that the Times is running some sort of hidden contest where you're supposed to match obvious pairs, setting "Curtis Sliwa" with "Guardian Angels," or "The Bell Jar" with "Sylvia Plath," or "colossal embarrassment" with "U.S. Men's Basketball Olympic team," and then counting the pages in between the references for some sort of Kabbalistic frisson. Perhaps it should.

I will be posting mysterious numbers throughout the week. Today's is 5:13.