Fling my flesh into a tree. Feed me to the trout.

Two hornet stings. New dishwasher broken on the delivery truck. About to get that CD review I paid someone to write. If you’re not signed by a record company, don’t kid yourself. No one is writing a review in their publication for a CD without any juice behind it. There’s “Indy” and there’s “INDY”. They wear uniforms too. Who was it, Frank Zappa who said that? Anyhow, I can’t but embrace it.

You’d be surprised at how much $$$ changes hands before any kind of “revolution” is given even cursory lip-service.

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One thought on “Fling my flesh into a tree. Feed me to the trout.

  1. bigsoco bob says:

    Not surprized at all.

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