Should quit my job, I guess

I mean, I already have a
tennis/cricket sweater, for god's sake.

Saw some woman in some magazine, I think it was Vogue, who was written up as being a "music stylist" or some such.  That is, she is paid to pick the music for fashion events: shows, soirees, what have you.  There was a sample listing of types of clothes and what she'd pick for them, eg

Old money: Canon in D

or whatever.  I can't remember the others, and the magazine is at home.  But you know: "More Than This," Chemical Brothers, that sort of thing. "Crazy in Love."

Of course, she was gorgeous.  Who wouldn't want a glamorous woman to show up with her iPod/Pad and upload her hyper-"curated" (ugh) setlist to your gizmo and everyone nods sagely as "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" lilts out?

Point being: Chooch and I need to quit our jobs and do this.  Fly places, deliver "She's Losing It" by Belle and Sebastian to Chanel staffers like we wrote it, have lunch, get paid, fly home.  WE HAVE DONE OUR HOMEWORK.

I single-handedly caused the "Elonore" revival the other week, did I not?