Simply… They make me happy. As a former (and hopefully one day again) radio personality, I can only aspire and wish I had a show like, and the ideas of Dan Debuf and Maz Compton. Apart from how great I think the show works and the personality they bring to it, I look forward to listening to them on the drive home. I don’t ‘look forward’ to that sort of
There’s two things my mind keeps tracing back to when I listen to ‘My Everything’ – Nickelodeon and Mariah Carey. I know we all know her very well from those Nick shows, and I know she has been compared to Mariah a lot, but I am yet to be able to set her apart. Undoubtedly, Ariana Grande is talented. The girl can sing, she looks great and she’s likable. Also,
So, I decided to give this Iggy chick a chance. To be honest, I had low expectations and lucky I did, because ‘The New Classic’ absolutely blew me away, unexpectedly. It didn’t sit right with me that she was Aussie born and raised, rapping with an American accent. Anything goes in the music industry these days. But, then you listen to her talk and read her story, and it makes
She lay down on the wet stone floor of the alleyway covered in her own blood. She knows it is hers because she isn’t smirking like the man above her. He isn’t showing any signs of giving up. She is, though. She is exhausted from fighting him off. Minutes seem to be hours. Her tight fitting dress doesn’t seem so beautiful anymore. It is wet, covered in dirt and her
Note: Names have been changed to protect the identity of the people in this story. Everyone at work spoke a lot about Mesh and her abilities. I was always curious to find out more, as I was a firm believer of the spirit world and still am. It was 2010 and after a few years of running off the tracks, I needed something to put me back on them stably.
I can’t remember the first time I heard Miami to Atlanta, but it did come at a perfect time. It was a horrible year that 2008, where I saw the word ‘depression’ being written out by my doctor. I suffered the biggest blow and many more were to follow. After ending my two year streak of unhappiness in one department, a domino effect occurred where I became unhappy with the
“Pou eime?” “Ti?” “Pou eime?” I hesitated to give any response to the question for a few seconds, but I finally answered. “Spiti?” My answer was in itself a question. After living in this house for six years why is my father asking me where we are? We are sitting on the badly torn leather couches that are covered in this horrible grey colour that he bought, aren’t we? The