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.
From the latest New Yorker. Really.
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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