Throwing dollar bills to bums on LA’s skid row from the top of a $50k van is not a humanitarian gesture. Dude thinks he’s feeding animals.
“Yeah, the days are getting longer, but at least it’s not the end of the decade.” Bunk Strutts 29 December 2019
From The Statistical Statistics Department:
The Federal Bureaus of Prisons: says 92.9% non-whites and 7.1% whites were incarcerated as of 21 December 2019, therefore it’s a racist system. Oh wait…
Sam Chatmon (1897-1983) sang his version of a classic cheatin’ song in 1978. Apparently the vid was filmed by Alan Lomax.
The origin of the song “Make Me A Pallet On The Floor” is fuzzy and dates to the 1800s. It appeared in sheet music in 1908 in “Blind Boone’s Southern Rag Medley No. One: Strains from the Alleys.“
Now check out John William Blind Boone‘s amazing story…
Magic Slim, aka Morris Holt (1937-2013). Nice Chicago blues [via].
Magic Slim was forced to give up playing the piano when he lost his little finger in a cotton gin mishap. He first came to Chicago in 1955 with his friend and mentor Magic Sam. The elder (by six months) Magic (Sam) let the younger Magic (Slim) play bass with his band and gave him his nickname.
Have a great weekend folks. Be back here tomorrow for more stuff.
“In the mid twentieth century there was made a series of photographs advertising Soviet “An” planes to western buyers. Some of these photos have been revealed just recently. Party leaders didn’t allow them to be used abroad and the photos were kept in the archives of “Antonov” company.”
[Image and caption found in here. More about the Ukraine-based company here.]
No it doesn’t.
It looks just like a late ’60s piece of crap station wagon.
Nice try.
“The children stretch out in the back, gaze up at the stars through the sun roof and they’re off to sleep in no time.”
Yeah, sure. Carbon monoxide poisoning puts you right out… been there, done that. Then you wake up with a pounding headache. Dad’s 1972 Ford Country Squire did it to me.
Years later it happened again. Danny Rat and I were hiding in the trunk of Raul’s Buick to sneak into the local drive-in theater without paying. We paid in brain pain that night, and I never did it again.
