Goodnight, My Darling

The Ballad of Jo Jo Beaudreaux

It doesn't look it from this picture,
but Angela is a "Girl Living in Color."

by Angela K. Durden
The Most Brilliant, Funniest, Writingest,
and Singingest Woman in the World

Citizen Journalist.  Novelist. Author of other stuff. 

Business writer.  Songwriter.  Protecting creator's copyrights. 

I wrote this song for author Linda Sands' character Jo Jo Beaudreaux, a truck-driving, crime-solving woman featured in "Grand Theft Cargo" and "Precious Cargo."

LYRICS:

VERSE 1
Jo Jo Beaudreaux’s seen her fair share of sadness
She lost her mama; and she watched her lover die.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux, oh, you know she loves her daddy.
And he loves her back with an absolute fierce pride.
Now, Jo Jo Beaudreaux does not go looking for trouble.
But she always comes back to her buddies,
she’s there on the double. She's got a

CHORUS:
Kimber on her ankle. Trouble she can smell.
When things get rough, bad
guys will go to Hell. She’s got a…
Kimber on her ankle.   {Come on. Come on.}
Trouble she can smell.   {Come on. Come on.}
When things get rough bad guys will go to Hell.
Jo Jo. Jo Jo.  Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo.
Beau dreaux. {Come on. Come on.}

VERSE 2
Jo Jo Beaudreaux drives her truck on the big roads.
Dead-heading and drawing lines ain’t her thing.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux watches lollipops slide on by
And she nNever feeds the bears, that ain’t no lie.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux, you know the girl likes to boogie.
Four-wheel bumper stickers bring her lots of worry.
She’s got a


CHORUS:
Kimber on her ankle. Trouble she can smell.
When things get rough, bad
guys will go to Hell. She’s got a…
Kimber on her ankle.   {Come on. Come on.}
Trouble she can smell.   {Come on. Come on.}
When things get rough bad guys will go to Hell.
Jo Jo. Jo Jo.  Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo.
Beau dreaux. {Come on. Come on.}

OUTRO:

Kimber on her ankle.
Watch your back door, bad guys.
She’ll find your twenty.
Jo Jo. Jo Jo.  Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux. {Come on. Come on.}

Ballad of Jo Jo Beaudreaux
© 2017 Lyrics, Melody, Composition
Angela K. Durden and Second Bight Publishing

Facebook says $100,000 in ads from Troll Farm made Hillary lose.

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.


PBS and NPR: Deaf. Facebook: Blind. Troll farms: Sneaky. Clintons: Persecuted.

You know, there was once a time I was like most folks who listened to National Public Radio. But I quit a few years back because I hate to vomit. NPR couldn't find its backside if it was attached to it.

Not to say that I haven't heard some interesting things on their program. For instance, that is where I heard the story about the Mojave Desert Phone Booth which prompted me to write a song about it. I'm sharing it here and now to let you know this great story would not have existed had I not listened to NPR.

But those inspiring stories became fewer and I got tired of waiting for more.

It became painful and a waste of my time slogging through the Politically Correct Democratic Socialist RINO Fascist Commie talking points to get to something that might be relevant to an independent-minded person such as myself.

On their website, NPR boasts of winning hundreds of awards, many from prestigious journalism blah, blah, blah, while they say of themselves: 

"On-air and online, NPR presents fact-based, independent journalism that examines and airs diverse perspectives. NPR's journalists strive for mastery of the narrative form, telling stories in ways that transport the audience to the places where news is happening and introducing the people affected."

Doesn't that just sound lofty and worthy and caring? Of course it does. But how independent can NPR be when the stories are the same as everybody else in mainstream media whose narrow world view produces narrow story lines? Which story lines, by the way, always give institutionalized evil a pass. 

In 2011 NPR took money from George Soros' foundation. To explain it away, they said: 

...But the organization made a judgment last fall that taps into that credibility account. The decision was to take $1.8 million from the Open Society Foundations. It's funded by left-leaning billionaire financier-philanthropist George Soros, who made his fortune in hedge funds and currency speculation. 

The money is for a worthy purpose...

Of course it is, sweeties. 

See? They knew Soros was — let me chuckle a moment — left-leaning, but took the money anyway. So I went to NPR's website and searched for that worthy purpose. It is called Impact of Government, and also Impact on Government. Which, by the by, are two completely different titles. 

Supposedly they were going to have two stringers in each state that would focus on state politics that often do not get covered in the media. Here's what I found they did for $1.8 million dollars. 

And nothing since. Hey, Soros? I'll write for ROTW for that kind of money. Oh, wait. I already write for ROTW and I do it at my own expense as a Citizen Journalist. 

Now NPR is reporting that bastion of caring around the world and self-appointed watchdog of fake news, or social media giant Facebook, says that $100,000 they made selling ads on their portal to a Troll farm in Florida made Hillary lose?

And they say it with a straight face?

I'd laugh except it isn't funny.

Crying Puddles: Online matchmaking summed up in song.

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.


(AD)2 is the duo featuring me, Angela K. Durden bringing words and melody and such as that to the mix, and Piano Genius Alan Dynin.

I recently wrote a song called Crying Puddles. We performed it at the Joe Gransden Jazz Jam held every Tuesday at Venkman's in Midtown Atlanta. Venkman's live streams the stage with an iPhone from the back of the room so the phone picks up noise from the kitchen and waitstaff picking up orders, but you can still hear the song pretty good here.

You know, I even wore a dress this evening. Yes, I got gussied up. Here's the vid:

Crying Puddles

Lyrics by Angela K. Durden 

All Rights Reserved

(c) 2017 Angela K. Durden and Second Bight Publishing

There’s a song about making whoopee and

All the times you got for the opportunity to

Get it good, put your mind in a muddle.

But for me it’s been so long I’m Crying Puddles.

  

So I got proactive in looking for a mon.

Went to all these websites that ended in dot com.

Got lots of pictures that said “Look at us!”

Followed by offers of excellent service.

Oh, oh, oh. You know, know, know.

You know what I’m talking about.

Yeah.

  

Do you wanna hear what the men say?

I said,

Do you wanna hear what the men say?

They say:

“Are you feeling mean, girl?”

  

“I can make you scream, girl.”

  

“I got something you ain’t never seen, girl!”

Yeah, I’m Crying Puddles.

Lots of songs about making whoopee. But a

Lot of damn good they’re doing me    in

Finding man certified and bonified with

Talent specific leaving me cross eyed.

Yeah, yeah.

I’m Crying Puddles. 

He Was Just an Old Man Teaching Me to Throw

by Angela K. Durden

He Was Just an Old Man who wanted me to be the first female big-league pitcher.
I threw that ball until he sighed and said, “I’ll teach you to be a barber.”
So, he took me around to all his friends and they proudly let me cut their hair,
until I cut too close and one too many times nicked an ear.

He was thirteen years old when his father said,
“Ain’t got enough for you, your mother, and your sister.
So, it’s time to move on, grow a pair,
become your own kind of mister.”

The boy hit the road and next thing we know
he was seventeen.
He lied about his age, took the oath,
became a Marine.

Four years went by, he quietly did his time,
each day three hots and cot.
But he had more to do, so he moved on,
his own man he was yet not.

He got a job with the city service when horses pulled the bus.
He drove his rounds and gave some thought to becoming a happy Us.

See, he met this girl with a twinkle in her eye and he thought it was all for him.
That twinkle was full of madness, other men, and lots of sin.
He vowed “I’ll never be like Daddy”, so he earned extra money working hard
so his little princesses would never want and they could be stars.

He donned a mask, jumped in a ring, wrestled until he lost.
Went back stage to collect his pay and said, “Next month, boss?”
He learned how to barber. He was into fitness before La Lane was cool.
He taught himself to fly, bought a plane, and then taught others, too.

His wife left him, he didn’t miss her, but he was sad all the same.
You see, the nut didn’t fall far from the tree, his girls got their mother’s madness.
Years went by, his grands came along, and he was always around.
I grew up, had kids of my own, man I sure do miss the sound of

Grandaddy saying, “Lift that elbow. No. Turn this way here.”
And “It’s all right, stop your crying, baby girl, it’s only an ear.”
Yeah, he was just an old man.
Yeah, he was just an old man.
Yeah, he was just an old man...
Teaching me to throw.

Music, Lyrics, Composition All Rights Reserved
© 2017 Angela K. Durden and Second Bight Publishing

Chords: Cm Fm Gm and back to Cm  |  Tempo: 90 BPM
Want to listen to the music track sans vocals? Click here.