Never heard of this dude but I’m told he reps his borough with fierce pride (Queens!). Plus his name is from that Calvin Lockhart movie with the Mayfield soundtrack. I like him.
“Museum directors with their high shaking heads/They kick white shadows until they play dead.” Everybody knows “Let’s Go,” but really, how interesting is it to like the nightlife, baby? It’s not. “The Dangerous Type” is the real and true banger on this album. Shout to Greg Hawkes for the delicious synthy goodness and Roy Thomas Baker for being a general ’70s studio god (QUEEN).
I’m told that this topless gentleman was an important figure in music; more importantly, I know for a fact that he put babies in women on 12 separate occasions, making him the music game Antonio Cromartie. I try not to post album covers that remind me of my home country’s gross insatiable hunger for firearms, but I’ll overlook it in favor of laziness. (I needed an album cover this week and I had the jeans and plastic gun required.)
I WANT TO GO TO WRESTLEMANIA. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS MUST SHOCK YOU BUT I AM NOTHING IF NOT A COMPLEX WOMAN WITH A VARIETY OF INTERESTS.
Update: IT FUCKING WORKED. I AM GOING TO WRESTLEMANIA. Thank you for the tickets, Eric Perkins, whose uncle works for Vince McMahon. You are immortal in my eyes, sir.
Best thing outta Scotland after whisky, Groundskeeper Willie, cozy Fair Isle sweaters, Bon Scott and the Young brothers, David Byrne, the flute guy from Jethro Tull, Average White Band, and the exceedingly NON-Average White Lady known as my great-grandma, who puts her full support behind women mastering historically male-dominated activities and who also encourages me, somewhat pimp-like, to “Show em your nice shape, honey,” because these 2 things aren’t mutually exclusive for me as a woman, you see. (Sorry, @sexistdudesofinstagram! xo)
If this isn’t the best MLB/Parliament/Jimmy Buffett collab post you’ve seen today, please keep it to yourself and let me keep up the charade. Don’t hurt my feelings.
Citizens of the universe, recording angels, I have returned to claim the pyramids and also to remind you that Dave “The Cobra” Parker fucking ruled and I absolutely HAD to do a tribute post. (T-shirt courtesy of Homage – thanks, guys!; glide in my stride and dip in my hip courtesy of genetics – thanks, Mom and Dad!)
I have zero allegiance to the Pittsburgh baseball Pirates, but I know the importance of names like Stargell, Clemente, and McCutchen, and I damn sure know the importance of Dave and his shirt of interplanetary galactic radness made possible by the combined efforts of the cotton industry, the really pure coke of ’70s northeast America, and George Stanley Clinton, jr. I just watched the 30 for 30 about the ’89 World Series, during which I realized that Rickey Henderson isn’t the only Athletic I adore – Dave was also on that squad that swept SF, prompting me to remember the existence of this picture and then do a tribute to him.
[I didn’t have a Pirates uni to put behind me like Dave in his picture, but the A1A album by Jimmy Buffett will do, as it contains “A Pirate Looks at Forty” (the song that made me realize Buffett can write a great song and is more than just “the ‘Margaritaville’ guy who sometimes gets thrown out of Heat games”)].