Yes, my muse is male, and I wouldn't mind at all if he looked like the boy from Ipanema up there (his name is Cassio, if you must know). Or rather, I would mind very much if he looked like that and split on me, like mine has done. With all the tiredness and scattering of the last few days, he's sulking and refusing to play ball, and I'm growing increasingly exasperated with him.
So here's something that will (hopefully) shake him out of his funk: a no-holds-barred epic bit out of Blind Guardian's brand new and entirely kick-ass album, At the Edge of Time.
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