The James Kepple Radio Hour - Episode 14 Hostel Radio 2 Terror at Tony's Place!




LIVE FROM HARLEM A Birthday party at Tony's Place one of the finest bed and breakfasts you can find for a price you can celebrate, were evolving, working our way up the property scale, broadcasting from the shenanigans at Tony's, we'll see if we can get an interview from the man himself, see what dignitaries show up, were officially OVERBOOKED, so grab my hand and lets walk down to the New Ebony Hotel together. The rumors of a radio show are true! So join us coast to coast in the den of one of those illustrious harlem mansions, its fitzy with the right hep cats and gentleman, come feel the love. and then some

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/jimbo-brown/2010/03/28/the-james-kepple-radio-hour--episode-14-tonys-plac

Anonymous blog or commit myself? Whadya think?

(posted by anonymous, relayed by jimbobrown77)

Here it comes. The de-damification of an avenue somewhere below the left ventricle. and if the solar plexus opens a little farther there will be more. half-assed mystic crying from the throat praying to what's left of god that the visions don't start back up again. they stopped after the year of Lexapro in the trailer in Spring. you tell me what you know of shamanism and i will tell you of confusing-ass messages from somewhere that just ain't you. except that it is you, because it's all in your head. BUT there is that little bitch of synchronicity and shared info with the fellow freaks that somehow you just can't let it go. paradigms words meanings windows to soul trifling misfits and their yellow sunny show of being spiritual and you are the real deal but you keep it to yourself and speak in riddles. Except for some that get it and confess that they had a transcendent experience with you that opened up some avenue to their true passion. or he said he went in to REM state. or the one that made love to you and for a little while he was free and said so but then hated you. the sky is blue. those whatevers are spinning on the rooftops of suburbia and here comes another wave of grief from the heart chakra downtown to the root. water. soy coffee and diet coke taste like a float. my hands are over half-way to 70. I get away with looking 25. Had a 20 year old announce i was the best ____ of his generation. i am finally having really amazing sex and i want him to handcuff me and just do it all. if it ever got too far i would yell "Baseball". Deep breathing like every day. just breathing and trying every semi-buddhist trick i know to stay off drugs and booze. my soul feels like shit. the energy of the earth is so crazy-fucked right now. i love people so much but i harbor so much righteous anger at the male ego. i try and try to let it go. Fucking irresponsible pricks destroying everyone's fun. People say such awful things to me, thinking I am depressed out of self-pity, when I absorb other's pain like a sponge and I can't seem to stop. Hermit when not working. no tv. no news. i don't look at magazines. no internet news not even democracy now. nothing. no more pain. i get called a priestess. a witch. a faerie. a muse. I'm just a woman. with a seriously gunked-up energy field. I'm having a shitload of fun lately. none of this makes any sense. it never did