I turn to you, o flist of greatness. Wouldest thou spare unto me, thine own servant, a copy of Prince's Pussy Control? And unto thee shalt I bless you with divers gifts, even unto eternal gratitude, thus sayeth the Stoney.
If thou shalt come unto me bearing gifts of mp3, it shalt be delivered unto my servant: morrisona [at] sbcglobal [dot] net.
What? It's Sunday. Oh. I have some Deep South flisters: And thou shalt WEEP and WAIL unto the missing of this song, and EVIL and PESTILENCE shall OVERCOME thee, shouldest thou not heed my plea, thus sayeth the LORD, and for those who in their WICKEDNESS do not help thine flister shall SORES and DEATH be thrust upon thine HEAD and thy children and thy children's children, for I am a JEALOUS god. And whosoever delivered unto ME Prince's song PUSSY CONTROL shalt I deliver from DAMNATION.
Didn't you know already that I'm going to the Special Hell? See you there! (and thanks, by the way, if you have it.)
[ETA] Got it: my flist rulz da skoolz