Dedicated to my pals, Todd & Danielle, out in Bowling Green, and to the great poet, F.A. Nettelbeck, all of whom have stirred this shit loose.
Because it was a gift, and with uncompelled great humor am I listening to, for the first time, George Wright's 1957 Hammond stir-up record, George Wright Plays the Hotsy Totsy Organ. It's an amusing thing from a time when the sexiest thing around was a girl's knees. Anyhow, it's incredibly shitty and reminds me of a product called Hotsy Totsy, which is a caustic used to clean deep fryers in restaurant kitchens. There is a spider the size of the moon blocking the moonlight, and if I were fucking Napoleon I couldn't say with more strident conviction, I am in love with this thing.
The flapper on the sleeve is kinda janky, but I probably wouldn't kick her out of bed. Who knows.