From the latest New Yorker. Really.
Friday, May 23, 2008
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And then, as suddenly as it had all started, it was over...with the noise of a hundred thousand people saying "foop", it promptly vanished into the thin air out of which it had wopped.
6 comments:
the noted air guitarist ain't got shit on me, I do a MEAN mouth trumpet.
I hope they throw air tomatoes at him.
c'mon dude, it's art.
If I could roll my eyes in print, I would.
I"m totally going to that.
And my kid has a bright future ahead of her as an air saxaphonist.
If only I trained more as a kid....
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