Musical satire/comedy in NO uncertain terms.

Details

Contents

#		Title	Length	Sample
1		Tobacco	0:40
2		Mary Jo Kopechne	2:24
3		The Journey To Dallas	5:54
4		Gimme Jimmy	2:00
5		500* of (C not F) Hot Vinyl	2:52
6		Russia	2:29
7		Pants	3:54
8		Puke O' Paducah	1:56
9		I Smell Rank	2:04
10		Ronnie	3:12
11		Boris the Pterodactyl	0:57
12		The Asshole Hall of Fame	3:29
13		No Mo' Cigamoes	2:58
14		Quayle Huntin'	3:58
15		The Telephone Pole Song	2:13
16		There's A Stranger In My Butt	2:59
17		Pardon Me, I'm Gonna Be Sick	1:22
18		...huh?	0:28
19		Guys With Ties	2:51
20		Welfare Sluts	2:23
21		I Can't Afford To Puke	2:41
22		Backdoor Baby	3:17
23		Billy Boy	3:28
24		Mr. Dithers	1:13
25		I Kissed A Frog And My Ass Turned Green	1:05
26		The Toilet	0:36

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Description

Dear Beulah,

It was/is a lovely island. I told my shoe to take a left turn one day and I sat on a bench. I was only in Court for 30 minutes. Hell, that was 1934! Just think if I had Kleptomania on Wednesdays!

Whether has been strange; you order eggs, they come scrambled. Then it rained, and it smelled weird; I almost looked purple. Sounded like a good album title won't it? Rain Purple. If it fit I'd smoke it.

Busses here are pretty weird too. When I asked me where it was going I said, "Guess." The Bus said, well... it just kept staring. So I said, "Ok." I took a taxi to the next street corner. That's when I walked into the coffee shop and had a Pepsi backward (drawkcab ispeP). Nice painting they had on the wall by the front door - it looked just like what was outside. (My elbow scratches) I heard some rocks too, but they weren't. I like Rock, so I eight a Roll. Phanus Phallus Phobias sounds like a wart, but they are my favorite fans (especially on a hot. Day).

When that airplane flew over I waved. Anyway, as I was walking down the street the telephone rang. Nobody was in the booth. It rang and rang and rang. After about 10 rings (when I'd lost count at 20) I picked it up and said, "Hello?" He sounded American because I couldn't understand what he said, something like "Ngot". So that's what I told him, "You've ngot the wrong number." I hung up.

It reminded me of the time I'll be leaving soon.

I'll be home when this letter arrives, so I'll check it for errors before you open it again. If I could come home by mail (or femail) I'd be flat wouldn't it? Okay.

Love,
Zimp