Don't tell me that's a duck with a man on his ass when I know it is a man with a duck sitting on his head. Don't do it.
Sloppy Angel. The Noodleman. I don't know which one I like more. Probably, The Noodleman, but only by by the whiskers on a cats behind.
You know what I do like? This track. I've been told by sources that I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw them that this song is less than four months old. I don't believe it. Not for a second. The truth is The Noodleman, and God bless every last hair on his bald head, The Noodleman has a time machine. Yea. He owns a time machine. He built it out of spare parts he found at the dump. It runs on banana peels and old motor oil and smells like an gym sock. Either way, my less than trustworthy sources told me The Noodleman went back in time to New York City, in the year of our lord 1979, and recorded a disco track with the hottest band at the time, stole the tapes, retreated to his time machine and returned to present day. Hence, this beauty.
I don't think it's fair though. I mean, if you have a time machine, you have to kill Hitler first before you go and steal a disco track, right?
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