That smooth cat von was talking and jiving, funning and sunning, smiling and nodding himself down a suave path of song and dance about the music that established his zone of jive, so I’m gonna lay down the rap on my new pride and joy. I want to talk to you about my man, my most righteous of brothers, my guy rolling a spliff right now from the Nazz’s own personal crop and showing the Werewolf and the Man in Black just how you jive and scat to Gabby when she’s feeling like making that trumpet she totes howl, oh yes, my cats and kitties, howling all the way to Judgement Mother Day.
Yes. His Lordship himself. I found him out in the wilderness (shown the way by the righteous stud Lincoln Cat, who will be grooving down in my own righteous blogstash with the rest of the mad, lyrical cats as soon as I can mixel the pixel with the trixel, connect the dot on the screen free and clean, Jean) and he’s gonna talk to us about my boy. The biggest mother cat of the Gee Oh Mother Pee. The one that brought it all in and made it sing. But my gums can stop flapping any time now.
Oh, if you were worrying about the length of the quote – the righteous cats and kitties in the know, Joe, have declared the square:
All cats and kitties who are blown away by this material are encouraged to perform it, share it, download it, post it, make it known to the not-yet-hip, but hungry, masses.
Dig.
Moe
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