Jazz Noir | classical jazz and noir jazz (part 2)

"The rain fell like dead bullets."

YES SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

While listening to this, I told the bartender to pull the whisky from the top shelf, pour three fingers, and leave the bottle. He won't get it back.

COOL GREAT MUSIC....
Thank You For This.!!

There was an odor in the air. The kind of odor you only get used to when you graduate from the school of hard knocks. It smelled like a set up!

🔉🔊🎼🎵🎶🎷
🥃🚬
🦉

This helps me sleep, thanks for the upload

Is the pic don draper, or Jon Hamm

The moment she stepped in, i knew i was in troubles. A partner's dead. His widow asking me why. And no clued to answer with. What could i ask for?

Was it love
or hate,
...a refuge
or a grave?
A lesson learned
too late,
....locked in lonliness's
embrace.

💋

I knew it would be a slow day. It always is, unless we get some poor woman crying an' yellin about how someone murdered her husband or stole an heirloom o' hers. 'course that wasn't my department, but I made those cases my department.

The alley always has a way of seeming darker when Frankie sends his heavies out for you. I kept my eyes peeled as I counted down the blocks to my place, where I at least stood a fighting chance.

I never heard her come up behind me. The second I smelled her perfume, she dug her fingers into my ribs and said, "Gotcha, baby!" I screamed like a little girl and let loose with a Bronx cheer that shook the windows.

Looking back, I think that was when she decided she loved me...like a brother.

I donçt know what that second song is, but it is not noir jazz and it is not relaxing and it counter to sleep.

A man such as myself can begin to slowly pace in circles postulating deeply over such music. I can only imagine what these vibrations do for others.

Sure...she was just another Dame, I thought as I slammed down the glass on the bar, the whiskey , now taking effect....but then again ...with that face, maybe she wasn't...

It looked like rain, so I got up to close the window. That guy on the sidewalk was still playing his sax.
He was good, but I had heard enough for one day.
When I turned back to my desk, she was already standing in front of it.

"Can I help you?", I said.

"No, Mr. Starker, I'm here to help you.", she whispered. "You placed a Want Ad for a secretary in today's paper. I'd like to apply for the position."

"Cookie, you can have any position you want." I replied, "You're hired as of now. And from now on, call me Mick."

"Oh, thank you Mr, uh, Mick." she squealed, "You don't know how happy this makes me."

"Sit down, sugar, pour yourself a drink. We've got all night to get to know each other. And you don't know how happy this'll make me!", I said as I removed my tie.

That's when the phone rang. That's when it all started to go sideways.
Who could've figured that she'd wind up dead, and I'd be sitting in a jail cell talking to you?

Smoking in the dark I took the silver bullet...

Deliciously mysterious

I am So Reminded of that place, That Back Alley BAR: Remeber..?
Made You Feel Like a Midget walking to the Urinals....
I GOTTA STAY ON MY TOES!!!!?

Thank you!

a musty cold scent of aged whisky and smoky tobacco mired the windows in a mysterious green fog...

Yo soy el H. Bogart, el Jazz Noir.

Where, pray tell, is part 1?

Night comes, a serpents tongue, licking & flicking about the room ~ Carnal lust in the gathering gloom, curls around like a blood red plume