Funkin’ Delicious Friday Afternoon

Shuckin’ and Jivin’

in the swamp

with all kinds of people.

36 comments

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    • Edger on June 28, 2008 at 00:59
      Author

    More music would be a good thing, if it’s not too offensive.

    • Robyn on June 28, 2008 at 01:03

    But my being there may be a problem after the past few days.

    • Edger on June 28, 2008 at 02:02
      Author

    and listen to music by myself. After all who needs friends, right?

    < grin >

    • Robyn on June 28, 2008 at 02:32

    Monday nothing, Tuesday nothing, Wednesday and Thursday nothing, Friday for a change, a little more nothing, Saturday once more nothing.

    Sunday nothing, Monday nothing, Tuesday and Wednesday, nothing, Thursday for a change, a little more nothing, Friday once more nothing.

    Montik gornisht, dinstik gornisht, mitvokh un donershtik gornisht, fraytik for a novehneh, gornisht gigeleh, Shabbos vider gornisht.

    Lunes nada, martes nada, miercoles y jueves nada, viernes por cambio un poco mas nada, sabado otra vez nada.

    Na na nana, na na nana …

    Oh, Village Voice nothing, New Yorker nothing, Sing Out and Folk Ways nothing. Harry Smith and Allen Ginsberg, nothing nothing nothing.

    Poetry nothing, music nothing, thinking and dancing nothing. The world’s great books, a great set of nothing. Haughty and foddy, nothing.

    Fucking nothing, sucking nothing, flesh and sex nothing. Church and Times Square, all a lot of nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing!

    Stevenson nothing, Humphrey nothing, Averell Harriman nothing. John Stuart Mill nill-nill, Franklin Delano Nothing.

    Karl Marx nothing, Engels nothing, Bakunin Kropotkin – nyuthing! Leon Trotsky, lots of nothing. Stalin less than nothing!

    Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, a whole lot of, a whole lot of nothing. Nothing, lots and lots of nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

    Not a goddamn thing.

    Nothing.

  1. Patti Lupone:

    PS: Robyn, I think you’ll really like this.

    • Edger on June 28, 2008 at 14:05
      Author

    Was going to post this as a separate essay this morning. But I posted 2 yesterday, so I can’t without waiting 24 hours.

    So here it is. Good morning everyone.

    Another Funkin’ Delicious day on the tube.

    If you, yes you, are afraid this might be directed at you, you’re probably right.

    Have some cheese.


    I turn on the tube and what do I see

    A whole lotta people cryin’ ‘don’t blame me’

    They point their crooked little fingers at everybody else

    Spend all their time feelin’ sorry for themselves

    Victim of this, victim of that

    Your momma’s too thin; your daddy’s too fat

    Get over it

    Get over it

    All this whinin’ and cryin’ and pitchin’ a fit

    Get over it, get over it

    You say you haven’t been the same since you had your little crash

    But you might feel better if I gave you some cash

    The more I think about it, old billy was right

    Let’s kill all the lawyers, kill ’em tonight

    You don’t want to work, you want to live like a king

    But the big, bad world doesn’t owe you a thing

    Get over it

    Get over it

    If you don’t want to play, then you might as well split

    Get over it, get over it

    It’s like going to confession every time I hear you speak

    You’re makin’ the most of your losin’ streak

    Some call it sick, but I call it weak

    You drag it around like a ball and chain

    You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain

    You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown

    Got your mind in the gutter, bringin’ everybody down

    You bitch about the present and blame it on the past

    I’d like to find your inner child and kick it’s little ass

    Get over it

    Get over it

    All this bitchin’ and moanin’ and pitchin’ a fit

    Get over it, get over it

    Get over it

    Get over it

    It’s gotta stop sometime, so why don’t you quit

    Get over it, get over it

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