Bathe in the Fountain of Pete
I did the band nerd thing in high school. Some opt to continue for a few years in college, drum corps, what have you. But only the truly insane continue wearing costumes after the party's over (I'm looking at you, Juggalos). My [by-no-means-comprehensive] internet search turned up alternate cover art for this album (maybe Mr. Fountain learned his lesson and scrambled to hide his misstep). Maybe I should have bought it as a conversation piece or a curiosity for a family member with the Palmer sense of humor, but alas...I left Pete Fountain and His Mardi Gras Strutters (yup, "strutters") on the shelf.
Thank you, Red Bull
...or possibly a Mack truck, depending on which mythology you subscribe to. I'm a bit concerned by the lack of speakers in this setup, not to mention the fact that cherubims do not qualify for electric instruments.
Speaking of segues, wouldn't be appropriate for this album to be a posthumous hit for Sheila Green?
The Honey Horn Sound Hurts a Bit
It's fitting to me that Al Hirt (who is just as likely to be an accomplished trumpeter as a registered sex offender) is peering at us from behind a wire cage. It's strange that this particular combination of facial expression and facial hair is acceptable (particularly during la Natividad) when the person has gone white like Santa...but not so much when he's recently touched up with Just for Men. 'Nuff said.
Simply Beautiful
I'm not sure I understand why a wave about to crash into the viewer's face is a beautiful thing, but apparently Bud Tutmarc is okay with it and unconcerned with the fact that his island guitar is very likely to be destroyed in the process.
Height Disparity
I can't help but think this little guy is Danny Devito. This mistaken identity makes the viewing experience (viewing of the album art, that is) much more enjoyable than it would be otherwise. I imagine most of Devito's love interests are taller than he...or underage, I suppose. Having nothing else to say on the topic, I'll simply advise you to check out It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia for hours of lols.
The Odyssey: A Night to Remember
A single night filled with Ulysses' masterpiece would be...well, epic. I don't suspect I could accomplish the deed in a single eve, but kudos to the person who manages that feat.
...At this point, I could pull something mildly amusing out of the back of my mind, but if I must be honest I have lost interest. I'm a bit tired, craving a shower, and would really rather play some Rock Band. So, since I keeps it real, I've got to skedaddle. Good eve, good folk.
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