Sugar and spice.
I am watching BBC Two's documentary on James Brown.
As he lay dying, he laid one hand on each of my shoulders and named me the new Godfather of Soul, the new Soul Brother Number One, the new Hardest-Working Man in Showbusiness, the new Mr. Dynamite, the new King of Funk, the new Sex Machine, the new Mr. Please Please Please Please Her, and the new Minister of the New New Super Heavy Funk.
With that, he passed on.
I closed his eyes, and then a white stretch limousine took me to the Harlem Apollo for my inaugural gig in each and all of those capacities.
I closed his eyes, and then a white stretch limousine took me to the Harlem Apollo for my inaugural gig in each and all of those capacities.
What a night.
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