OBSCURE JAZZ NICKNAMES OF THE '40s & '50s:

The Velvet Tackhammer
Ol' Chumthroat
The Anthropomorphic Knish
Lady Eunuch
Janitor-with-a-Drum
The Special Prosecutor of Love
The Malfunctioning Baler
Kid Vitiligo
The Stammering Inuit
Not Available in Michigan
Hubris Personified
Hank

ON OTHER BLOGS TODAY (3):

(content guaranteed 100% not-made-up-by-me)

I solemnly make a promise to you.If i ever happen to be catching multiple homes on fire in the beverly hills area and have enough gasoline left over as im walking to home depot to attempt to shoplift a ceiling fan,ill be reminded by the piercing fucking ring tone playing American Idiot from an a list celebrity and i will simply offer ashlee simpson for example, a box of untampered cabinet handles,attempting to get her to follow me out into the remote hollywood hills,then i will proceed to burn her.To burn her oh so badly,and i will have no regrets in my blood.And then i will go home and make 142 sandwiches with the main ingredient being a washcloth and the blood of a deer.See were all a bit fucking nuts arent me.My point exactly.

UNTIL I CAN GET IT TOGETHER TO WAX (OR WANE) ELOQUENT ON THE SUBJECT, THIS WILL HAVE TO DO:

Okay, people, you know what today is and you know what to do. I've already sent in my absentee ballot, and, of course, this blog officially endorses James Harris and Margaret Trowe of the Socialist Workers Party*. We're going all the way to .0000000001% of the vote this year, comrades!

* Not to be confused with Bill van Auken and Jim Lawrence of the fucking Socialist Equality Party. Splitters.