Or heaven… your smilage may vary.
Hell’s Jukebox
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
From my youth up I never liked the city.
I never forgot the mountains where I was born.
The world caught me and harnessed me
And drove me through dust, thirty years away from home.
Migratory birds return to the same tree.
Fish find their way back to the pools where they were hatched.
I have been over the whole country,
And I have come back at last to the garden of my childhood.
My farm is only ten acres.
The farm house has eight or nine rooms.
Elms and willows shade the back garden.
Peach trees stand by the front door.
The village is out of sight.
You can hear dogs bark in the alleys,
And cocks crow in the mulberry trees.
When you come through the gate into the court
You will find no dust or mess.
Peace and quiet live in every room.
I am content to stay here the rest of my life.
At last I have found myself.
— Tao Yuan Ming (Tao Qian) Chinese, 365-427
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I got nuthin’.
Wut?
Hahahahahahaha! Funny stuff.
Except for Hattie & Billy, which is obviously a “Chitlin Circuit” double-entendre comedy-songs LP, I’m curious as to what they *sound* like. Could the music *possibly* be as insufferable, ugly, or grotesque, as the sleeves are?
Hey Svetlana, can you air up my bassitball again?
Once you’ve tasted Dick Black you’ll never go back.
Saggy udder day at the dairy farm.
Sandwiching sweet Mrs Mills between the Tit for Tat naked Vampirina chick? That’s just naughty,Gerard. And funny.
The Malden album is disturbing. He looks like he’s channeling a clean-shaven John Wayne Gacy, and the young lady looks like a Happy Juggalo.
Put Clooney’s face for Malden’s,reading the speeches of BHO,with a transgender Bullwhip Griffin to his right, and it’s just another day at Disney, 2018. The more it changes, the more it stays the same.
Gerard-
Do you still have the one I sent you a couple of years ago?
I was disappointed not to see “Keep It Gay” in that collection.
Everything about that Karl Malden record is wrong.
Maya Angelou, whore dancing around an african camp fire while softly cooing black, feminist, MauMau love poetry is a pure picture of that old mammy.
“Do you still have the one I sent you a couple of years ago?
I was disappointed not to see “Keep It Gay” in that collection.”
Sorry. Must have missed that. I’ll look.
… Nope. Didn’t see it under the comcast or yahoo addresses.
Wait…wait, no, no…wait.
“Uncle Jemima Soap”?
I have that Anna Russel album. An interesting relic. It is comedy and music that at the time would have been decidedly middle-brow but to get it you really had to have some underlying knowledge. Unlike the most of the “comedy” today.
Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Diceman, but it’s a nice change of pace to hear comedy that requires a brain.