Oddly, this mash up came to me in a dream. Let it be known, I am not a fan of post-Derek & The Dominos Eric Clapton, yet I dreamt that I had made a mash up using my least favorite song, “Tears In Heaven”. All I think about is the joke: What’s the difference between Eric Clapton’s son and a bag of cocaine? Eric Clapton wouldn’t let a bag of cocaine fall out the window.
And for good measure: What does Eric Clapton have in common with a cup of coffee? They both suck without cream.
You heard it here first. I’ve never claimed to be Nostradamus, nor will I ever, but let me warn you about the most dangerous job in the year 2051, November 18th, to be precise. Whatever you do, don’t be the quarterback for the Washington Redskins! Don’t believe me? Ask Joe Theismann (1985) and Alex Smith (2018)! And while you’re asking them, do not mention anything about breaking a leg.
In the fictional city of Durban, the number one rule is: don’t talk about racism. Just kidding, Durban was a real place in South Africa.
“The fog moved in quickly,” she gesticulated wildly with rigid intense jazz hands. This was not the only indication that she was insane, for her eyes were as rabid as her overly unkempt hair full of incidental dreadlocks and foreign nits, as well as the miscellaneous fur of at least seventeen cats, eighteen if you count Boris The Hairless Cat. More revealing were her words, miscalculated gibberish or a random rant, it mattered not. She had the floor now, and she was about to abuse her powers as a seldom-tax-paying citizen.