For God’s Sake Please Go Outside
Fairly neato, though I’m not sure why. The human race is beginning to resemble my cat when it sees itself in the mirror. Transfixed for no good reason.
Fairly neato, though I’m not sure why. The human race is beginning to resemble my cat when it sees itself in the mirror. Transfixed for no good reason.
I useta play in an R and B band in Simi Valley and the singer would put a quart of vodka in the freezer and then drink it and we’d play Treat Her Right and a buncha other gutbucket stuff and then we’d throw up and go home.
Remember, kids: do the show.
King Curtis. No, really:
And Cannibal and the Headhunters.
I think the na, na-na-na-naaa chant in that song will outlast the Beatles. But maybe that’s just me.
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