Re-posting as fresh Monday morning last night's post (with links and poem added):
Sunday evening is the stupidest time to post and certainly the worst time to beg (I've heard Sunday night is the biggest stupidass soap opera night on TV), but WFMU has just started it's marathon and I need you give them money for me. I can't imagine not having this resource - I - I'll try not to badger the fuck out of you. I also need you give them money for you; you either know why and would be an ingrate not to give or you need find out why and not be an ingrate once you do.
All four songs in this post were culled from four different shows from the past week (Storck, Bethany, Berger, Davidson). No, I couldn't wait till morning, a chance to be a slut for more than just me? I will post these songs again in the morning as a fresh post (with the template below filled in, a new title - a line stolen from a poem - and this section rewritten) unless someone comments, in which case I'll find four more songs from four different shows. Hint.
Added Monday morning: No one took the hint. No one read the post Sunday night.
- The making of capitalist patriarchy: an interview with Silvia Federici.
- The political use of extreme poverty.
- Use Politics and Prose instead of Amazon when ordering books.
- On hording books. (UPDATE! Hoarding, not hording: see comments)
- UPDATE! By DJ request I'm twitter-bumping the post. They need the money.
- DC United has a new shirt sponsor, Leidos, a gov't contractor. Can't wait to hear what fucks they are.
- Gaithersburg! Creepy as Fuck!
- You got good taste.
- Mandl's Marathon DJ CD cover!
- What to do with pleasure.
Bees go mad on late summer evenings, should
People stray from their jobs towards water
Who makes the rented red boat's
Who is the younger one always
Who professes to be better because
He is just looking
Who says he is worse off as
He cannot look
The unicycle girl, thin
Like one with a sexual problem,
The Schlosspark. This follows:
Father rolling his eyes
The man from Manchester
Has my breast in his hand
These are funny
They don't do anything do they
Being burnt by a fire I say
Similarly, if only
You grasped some
Titanic misery or a
Love like an old man's
Where were we
A ballroom competition goes on
A yellow satin bikini
A fuchsia floor-length are
Dancing; an audience is
Drinking, clapping 1 2 3 1 2 3