Sunday morning (epic humans' birthdays edition)

Sometimes, kids, I wake up on a Sunday, it's the Lord's Day so I think about my blessings, drink tea with sugar & milk, put on a bikini if it's nice and warm outside, go up to the roof here on Mariposa Ave., and work on the LA Times crossword...

And then I realize, Jesus Christ, I almost forgot to say
happy birthday, PETE FUCKING ROCK! That was a close one.

06/21/70

I was raised by weed-smoking heathens so of course I don't do congregating in the name of the Invisible Man Who Lives in the Sky (other than Jerry Garcia). I do know enough about Jesus stuff, however, that I can recall learning that the Catholic Church has sashayed around for centuries announcing that the apostle and saint Peter is the "rock and foundation" upon which the church was built.
Coincidentally, Pete Rock is the foundation upon which my record collection was built.

Let us all bow our heads and honor Saint Pete, as our sonic lives would be vastly different at this point were it not for his existence.

In the name of Horn-and-Brass Loops, Key Stabs, Snares, and Basslines, AMEN.

“I hate victims who respect their executioners.”