Thirteen Women / Bill Haley & His Comets [1954]
(What follows is a licensed reenactment of the mental process of writing the B-side to the first rock 'n roll single to hit #1 on the charts.)
It's over. You've lost everything. The bomb has taken everything: your wife, your kids and your dog, your home and your Chevy with wings, your precious heirlooms and your cabinet of tchotchkes. If you wear glasses, they're gone too. The air is thick with smoke and radiation. But that doesn't matter because there's nothing to see. Nothing for miles and miles...
Wait! What's that?? You managed to salvage your guitar? A saxophone and drums, you say? And, look, in the distance—what is that? It's... it's thirteen women! Hooray!! There's women! There's tea and bread and 40-karate diamond rings! There's butter and sweetener! There's money and clothes! There's women! There's song! What more could you need?
Ah, yes: one man.
February 27, 2006
I Had Two Gals Every Morning
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2 comments:
if it's not love, then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb that will keep us together. me and my thirteen women. sweetness.
I always thought it was the bum the bum the bum that would bring us together. Morissey is so gay.
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