Radio: Prisoners of WOV

"Hiya cat, wipe ya feet on the mat, let's slap on the fat and dish out some scat. You're a prisoner of wov, W-O-V, 1280 on the dial, New York, and you're picking up the hard spiel and good deal of Fred Robbins, dispensing seven score and ten ticks of ecstatic static and spectacular vernacular from 6:30 to 9 every black on the 1280 Club. . . . We got stacks of lacquer crackers on the fire, so hang out your hearing flap while His Majesty salivates a neat reed."

To the average English-speaking listener,...

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