I dance exactly like some white guy nearly sixty-five years old dances. That is to say, I don't. I have no sense of rhythm and as those around me on the rare occasion when I have 'danced' can attest, no sense of decency or decorum.
That said, I may try to get a disco ball in place of the dome light in the car so that when I choose to get down with my bad self while motoring I can really get down. This song is just brilliant.
And I have the blisters on my feet to prove it.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
Showing posts with label Frank Zappa's Estate on Line one. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frank Zappa's Estate on Line one. Show all posts
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Early Days
It's a fine line between childlike and childish, and I ride on it balanced like Duna on a bike in a John Irving novel. I was born month...
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I wrote this five years ago in an effort to make sense of the unfathomable horror of the darkest day on the calendar in my lifetime. It...
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My thug name is 'Willie the Whiner,' because of my non-stop lamentations about our weather, no matter what our weather is at any giv...
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You may not have yet started to notice, but the days are getting shorter--yes, I know, hot summer nights and all that, but since we've h...