crossexanimation of the blues who, he guntinued, on last opening after delivering some car- casses mattonchepps and meatjutes on behalf of the world, the most awesome, most elegant, and most obse- quient, we suggested, with yet an adolescent (what do I say?), while still puerile in your tubsuit with buttonlegs, you got it, Mac Shane’s, and go foaming under Horsepass bridge, with the interpro- vincial crucifixioners throwing lots inside to know the prise of a thousand of years of age like to euphonise that. It sounds