stuff

when dick ellington met cunt basie, it was quite a session. first, they made a larry holmes for themselves, and soon, they started a family. they began with sonny boy, which they decided to do now rather than tjader. they followed that up with baby ruth, with a guest solo by dick johnson. then, they played candy. an original copy of this album has gone for 100 grand. mr, there is a goodbar in boston that often plays the album. the kit kat club does as well. the almond brothers have often spoken about the album as an influence on them. and remember how the doors stole that trane riff for light my fire? yeah, but who gives a shit? maybe the who. horton heard the who, and then said to me, "guess who i heard?" to which i said the "who" and he replied "guess who" and i said "i told you the who" and it quickly degenerated into a who's on first bit. guess who's on first? who. ah, this whole thing is off bass, and is likely played out. i hope all you out there are getting played, like dave silberg, yo, this shit is reel. i would reel it in, but i feel like a fish out of water. on the real.

new york is a toddling town? and just what is that? a toddling town. what shit. by the way, are there 2 t's in toddling? they say there is no pity in the naked city. and no clothes too. new york is the city that never sleeps. there are pills for that sort of thing. i only slept about 5 hours last night, but that had nothing to do with a city and more to do with my state of mind. i looked up at the ceiling and wondered why there is no country for old men. while there is a bardem they can go to, it would be nice if they could drink from the dishwasher pete fountain of youth. did juno that was coming? oscar, don't be such a grouch over these puns. if you are good, i 'll show you my big bird, my charlie porker, my dick johnson, my john dixon. actually, my penis is so small that it can only be measured with negative numbers. that's an old gag, something my penis will never make you do. aw, come on, too much chering, sonny, you couldn't bono someone if your subscription to life magazine depended on it. well, at least i've got time on my hands. in truth, my sex life has never been better. 10 years ago, i was looking at national geographic magazines, checking out the female tribe members. today, i am reborn, but not a christian. russell explained why he wasn't a christian. i think it had something to do with his not believing. the thing about religion is the hours. saturday for the jews, sunday for those who continue to feel that jesus was the son of god. weekend time...precious, you know? maybe if i could work it into my lunch hour. and, if so many hadn't been murdered in his name.

AS THEY SAY, LORD, PLEASE SAVE US FROM YOUR FOLLOWERS.

i like jesus hates me, but there's really no proof of that. i think he's neutral on the subject, but i defend anyone's right to exclaim that if they so choose. perhaps he does hate some of us. word is he is not a big fan of the air conditioner. he favors a big fan. he also likes a big fanny, perhaps explaining that "jesus: ass man" bumber sticker i saw in my dream last night. i had a really weird dream, where little indonesian boys and even smaller somalian girls, joined hands and sang the old negro spiritual "go down on moses." it is a grand tune that is passed down from generation to generation, an oral tradition. i must teach it to roberts as part of sex ed. ok, i'll stop horsing around.

peace, mr ed. i'll try to get back on track with my next blog.