Souped-Up SoHo Mincer

I'm staring into my tea, and it's quarter past seven in the morning. Grumb. Good thing I've got a wiry darkhaired Brit to stare at when I roll over.
So I've become addicted (belatedly, I realise) to the coolest swing band out there, and certainly the one with the most risqué name. Go check out the Cherry Poppin' Daddies. They rock. Hard.
Also, I worship Luis Aquino and Pedro Eustache. The brats, with their brass and woodwind instruments, thinking they're so awesome. They are. Buggrit.
Here, have an art link. It's the LeStrange bros.