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I learned a valuable lesson this week -- Google makes my fucking around on this blog less cool than it once was when I was just writing to thirty-five people. On a couple of occasions, while goofing around working in schtick from Fletch, or Martin & Lewis, or Buddy Rich, or Casey Kasem, I've used the bits in posts about real people -- sometimes just mixing shit in.
I did that to a video director I worked with, and I did it when writing about the band I saw in December at Smalls [that folks I speak with know I loved].
I apologize for fucking around with real people.
The band was really great, and I should reserve my shit to fucking around with You People . . . .
You People . . . are not . . . . . .My Kind of People.