“And I’d do it again.” Robinson. Probably.
Elvis was Jesus-ified after death and tacky, roadside velvet Elvis art could be purchased and displayed to show your devotion to the King. Love of a musical icon is one thing. But, martyred fascists are not kitsch or cool. Either one will let you know what kind of a home you stepped into. Both would be in bad taste but one is so bad it’s good and the other is so bad, it’s baaaad. And not Michael Jackson bad.
Velvet Elvis? Cool. Velvet Cheeto? Not cool.
In with the Hedberg, too. Noice.
Have you ever listened to Zaireeka appropriately? I haven’t, but that must be a headache to line up correctly.
Oh, it was, was it?
It’s an autonomous collective.
That’s a darn good shower thought.
A remix will add stuff to the original album version of the song. When the album version has the stuff and it’s removed, that becomes the “radio edit”.
Earwigs are drawn to textiles for some reason. I’ve left gloves in the garden and they’d literally be filled with them the next morning (and new gloves purchased immediately!). You could try leaving a carpet remnant upside down in the garden with a healthy dose of diatomaceous earth under it. Diatomaceous earth is excellent for creepy-crawly control.
Well, let’s see. First the earth cooled. And then the dinosaurs came, but they got too big and fat, so they all died and they turned into oil. And then the Arabs came and they bought Mercedes Benzes. And Prince Charles started wearing all of Lady Di’s clothes. I couldn’t believe it.
RealDoll has entered the chat.
Napoleon Dynadidn’t
Empire = dirt Crown = thorns/shit (JC/NIN) Chair = liar’s
mailman
Ergo, I am Superman. And I know what’s happening.
Food? No. Cuisine? Perhaps.
And cheddar, ya philistines.