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Every Tuesday, after I watch reruns of "Keeping

  • Every Tuesday, after I watch reruns of "Keeping Up With The Wests," I get a lesson in plagiarism-sorry-sampling from Johann Sebastian Kanye. Kanye says I got no rhythm-what does
  • that have to do with the Kardashians anyway. I scoffed at his remark and sat down at the Baby Grand to compose what I would call
  • "concerto leviosA in c-minor." It was a piece that could only fully be appreciated by intellectuals, the common folk found the twelve minutes of clanging keys to be rather
  • annoying, this writer included, especially when a certain neighbour of mine blasted out this hack songwriter's infinitely looping jangly key noises at four in the fucking morning.
  • "That's it, I've had enough of this fucking shit!" I said, rhyming in my head. I took out my MP5 submachine I bought in Hong Kong and shot the little bastard from my window.
  • I love shooting little bastards.
  • Being head of An Conflagration of Arsonists, He had played it to the gallery, Now it was
  • His turn to pass the baton. Peter was next and happily took it. Peter was poring over a list of places to go and start new fires. There were a lot of good choices. His assistant,
  • Pi Rho Mancer, suggested somewhere near Barcelona and something about flamenco. When I hear flamenco I zone out into another world. A world where everything I write makes sense.
  • But it only makes sense if you listen to flamenco while reading it. And dancing, with a rose in your teeth and castanets in your hands. How you'll hold the writing, I have no idea.

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