Yesterday my girlfriend and I heard, piped into the King Soopers supermarket on Speer and 14th, near where I work (serves a Hispanic neighborhood to the west, downtown to the east, Auraria Campus to the north), Television's "See No Evil." I'd certainly never heard anything like it - classic Velvets-Byrds-Wagner derived avant garage from the first
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From "Squeezed From The Tube," originally published in Why Mildred Skis #5, though you might also recognize it from Part 6 ("Fuck Machines And Razor Blades") of Real Punks Don't Wear Black:
Once, when my mother worked for the Massachusetts Housing Authority, she went to see the mayor of Springfield. He boomed out across to her as she entered his office, "Mrs. Hogan, you don't look Irish, but I'm pleased to meet you."
They did business with this firm that my mother called "St. Louis Hit and Run" (real name was St. Louis Screw and Bolt).
["They" being the Housing Authority, not Mom and her nonpaisano in the Springfield city government.]
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