Random Tribute: Isaac Hayes' beast of Detroit machinery.

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I know nothing about cars,

and I don't care about cars,

but ummm



is rather un-live-without-able,

yes?





Peacock blue, gold plated, '72 Eldorado =

a present from Stax in '71 for his success and made by Lucifer's minions in a GM plant for the purpose of getting nice, respectable young ladies like me, who don't even care about cars, out of their dresses. On an impossibly related note, Mr. Hayes has made a total of 12 babies with a selection of many willing ladies throughout the last few decades. Basslines Are Sex, I know this already; but what I'm starting to finally get is that big, hulking testaments to the skilled craftsmanship of the American auto worker are also, on occasion, The Sex.

I will not be posting any rap songs to wrap up this post, despite all the Lac references I can think of, lyrically speaking, from so many MCs in my record collection. Like, I really wanna say gator belts and patty melts right now, in the worst way. It's unnecessary to do that, though, 'cause I already have the perfect song. It pretends to be about walking but it's really a slinky, dress-dropping ode to riding shotgun next to Isaac while he steers the gold-plated beast at 7 MPH.
And it goes like this.

"Walk On By." (you can keep calling it "that Portishead song" if you want, but I do not approve)

mp3.


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