I rhythmically sway to music that crashes over in waves from musically-inclined hobos who crap in caves. I know what's right over deeds wrong, over the dead bodies of men killed by King Kong. A **** tune that plays 27 hours is a really long song, longer than the 'round-the-world maneuver that emanated in Kowloon, Hong Kong. Beauticians who incorporate raw sewage in perms, subject clients needlessly to raw sewage germs.