. Tonight I'm staying in where it's safe.. with ym my mobile turned off..
Have a nice new year folks.
(Maddy won.. go Maddy.. can't post the videos yet though.. until my new domain becomes active.)
All brand new and clean.. now I must get dressed and wander about in a daze until it's time to get the bus..
Loooooooooooooong day ahead.. I have music and books and memories and pens and papers though.. so it should whizz by.
x
I'm not really keen on phones and such.. but..
I've just registered with Skype(.com) as rooraaahcrumbs if anyone else I know uses it.
Yep.
**Mystery solved.. thank you David. x
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Editorial Reviews
Amazon.com
Led by the deep-toned Sen Dog and the deliciously adenoidal whine of B-Real and backed by DJ Muggs's beats–as thick as the smoke they inhaled–Cypress Hill spun dope-fueled tales of revenge, revolution, recreational drug use, gangbanging, and cultural pride. Like R. Crumb's Mr. Natural, but with a hardened voice and a B-boy attitude, Cypress Hill slow-walked their funk-flavored way through a minefield of anthems (the still sizzling “How I Could Just Kill a Man”) and comic manifestos (“Stoned Is the Way of the Walk”). Heavy on the bass line and punctuated by flashes of wit and rage, Cypress Hill's joint was definitely one to draw deep on. –Amy Linden
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Who's this other R. Crumbs chap?