Technology is not my friend. My HTC sucks. I have bitched about it in the past, suffice to say it became a nightmare after its more recent update. Then I was hacked and had a phone and charges added to my account. And now Windows 10 has decided my changes away from Windows type defaults need to be changed back to Windows 10.
I'm just going to start sending out handwritten dribbles.
For no reason whatsoever I caught myself thinking about the five sexiest records ever. I realized that, other than anything Shirley Manson sings on (that's a record, right?), four of my five are blues albums.
I love me some Frank and, some DMB and, some Tupac and, Motown comes close to making my hips gyrate involuntarily, but the blues...
The blues is just sex(y).
That's probably the real reason Robert Johnson died so young. He introduces the world to the sexiest music ever invented then has so much sex thrown at him that he drowns in pussy.
Let's see that Behind the Music. Lucky fucker.
Go find someone to throw down on a flat surface until you're covered in sweat while someone plays a heartbreaking note on your record player. That's what Sundays are for, boys and girls.