Thursday in Corporate Hell

I have my nose buried into my laptop for the afternoon, but I’m taking a quick lunchtime reprieve with another chicken salad wrap and this ‘Last Train to Hicksville…the Home of Happy Feet‘ by Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks.

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Am I one diverse mofo or what?

This 1987 album released on Geffen is fun, different and weirdly familiar all at once.  However, if you were to ask me “Why is he doing this stuff?”, I’d have to admit that I had no idea.  It doesn’t particularly fit into any particular movement, but feels like it fits a little into all of them from, say, 1930 through to 1975.  There’s country (‘Cowboy’s Dreams No.19‘), old timey (‘My Old Timey Baby‘), Samba (‘Vivante‘) and even show tunes (‘Success‘)…and that’s just Side One.  And I have absolutely no fucking idea how to even begin describing ‘The Euphonius Whale‘ on Side Two, believe me!

What else is there to say really?  It’s like being teleported from one genre and time frame to another one track after the other, all without leaving the comforts of your comfy chair, or as in my case, this stupid ass office swivel chair.

Pretty cool album cover though, right?

Simply the Tits!

Maybe I should ditch the airplanes and take up collecting albums with trains on the cover instead.

Hmmm….

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About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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