We're havin' a party
Dancin' to the music
Played by the DJ
On the radio

The Coke's out in the icebox
Popcorn's on the table
Me and my baby
We're out here on the floor

So Mr., Mr. DJ
Keep those records playin'
'Cause I'm a-havin' such a good time
Dancin' with my baby

Everybody's swingin'
Sally's doin' the twist now
If you take requests I've
Got a few for you
Play that song called "Soul Twist"
Play that song called "I Know"
Don't forget "The Mashed Potatoes"
No other songs will do

So Mr., Mr. DJ
Keep those records playin'
'Cause I'm a-havin' such a good time
Dancin' with my baby

We're havin' a party
Everybody's swingin'
Dancin' to the music
On the radio



Was life so much more complicted for Sam Cooke than for Mariilyn Manson? How much of all this crap is just a self-indulgent drama festival?

There's a certain satisfaction from keeping it simple and strapping it on. Now, granted I hardly ever do it, but pushing myself to my limits, physically, I get a taste of something where I get so worn that I get too tired to bullshit and maybe I get a little closer to an ice box full of cokes.

So listen, Mr. DJ, keep them records playing. . .


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

UPDATE


Congratulations to Smarty Jones



for winning the 130th Run for the Roses, and Congratulation to me for locking him at 8 to 1 on Thursday makes this gambler sing "My Old Kentucky Home" very drunkenly around the lower and upper east sides tonight. Mint Juleps on me folks.

Sucks that I got to work tomorrow.

This is Trash