Poly Styrene died Tuesday. She was the leader of X-Ray Specs.
Not one of my favorites, really. I honestly hate saxomophones. I try and like saxomophones, but nothing comes of it.
Freshman year I had a girlfriend (more friend than girl, except for the night we met (embarrassed both of us later (her more than me (I enjoyed myself tremendously (I believe she did too and I may have had proof if it wasn't for my psycho "real" girlfriend following us back from the firehouse that night) who wouldn't?) she had a rep to protect)because her girlfriend was a bit of a man hater) long story, malt liquor was involved) who had a car and exactly two cassettes, the goddam Sugarcubes and a mixtape full of of X-Ray Specs, Bongwater and Siouxsie. I must have heard that Bondage song fourteen million times that year while driving to and from Niagara Falls or the Flats in Cleveland.
I remember loving the car, it was a 1982 Ford Granada wagon that reminded me of my Pontiac, except it had electric windows and cloth seats and mine didn't. I helped her replace the single dash speaker after the stock one blew with a cheap paper cone from Radio Shack. That was one of the coldest days I have ever felt and I am serious about that.
I was in the library, here, a little bit ago and for about five minutes I swear I could smell that car. A mix of old lady perfume, hairspray and Marlborough reds in just the right amounts, one of those smell memories that are just about the worst thing to happen to your productive day. Kind of like hearing that the lead singer from a band you listened to as a teenager died.
At any rate, I was eighteen then, I'm forty now. The last time I listened to X-Ray Specs on purpose was more than half of my life ago. That's creepy. Just think, back then we had to make our own electricity from pin oak leaves and bat guano. How did we ever survive?
Between this and the constant rain, I'm so down in the dumps all I want to do is watch infomercials and drink coffee. Yet another reason the Greeks thought Nostalgia was a disease.
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Where the Russian guy talks about opulence and how he has it, then kisses a tiny giraffe?
Switch the word "opulence" with "vagina" and the tiny giraffe for my paycheck and he could be every single man I've talked to in the past month.
Our entire fucking country is full of goddamn bleeding heart, ignorant, stupid, simple, jealous, pussies. The worst part of it, is that despite all evidence, these jackoffs think they're the smart ones.
You know who's smart? The freaking godbothering Jesus freak who bought gold in 2009 with the cash he had left over every month because he paid off his mortgage early, because Glenn Beck came to him in a dream and told him to. Not the man who "cares so much" he's got tits growing where his brains should be, a lien against his house and a wife who works more hours for more money than he does just so they can afford to put the kids in daycare.
Want to tell us how to fix the economy? Tell you what, learn how to balance a checkbook first, you moron.
I'll repeat myself; when someone tells you we should do something "for the children", hold on to your fucking wallet.
You aren't doing it for my goddamn children, because I'm already doing it for my goddamn children, and if I'm not, then they don't fucking need it. I don't want your kind of help and I don't want your money. Keep your fucking hands off mine.
I believe that this blog has just come full circle. Get ready you pansies, my back is up.
Updated this year with the best headline on this that I've seen in a while: Earth Day leader killed, composted girlfriend About says it all.
Here you go, Ira Einhorn; Earth day founder, woman hater, murderer and fugitive, supported for years on the lam by celebrities and stupid people, because he was... wait for it... a great man.
Something about Philadelphia hippies... they're a hell of a lot more violent than other city's hippies.
Egad. It's Holy Thursday. I need to go drink myself stupid. Hey, beats washing feet.
It's going to storm again. Rain tonight then we'll get tornadoes through Good Friday and Easter. My lawn is four foot high. I may pretend to mow it later. But I probably won't.
I should do this blog thing at three am. I'm smart, witty, and literate as hell at three am. By ten in the morning I'm useless, by five pm I'm comatose.
Oh. Helpful hint. If you are feeling blue, a little down in the dumps and maybe the weather sucks and you aren't sleeping well... don't read Cormac McCarthy. Jesus Christ. Just don't. I just burned through 'The Road' and "No Country for Old Men" and now I'm about two drinks from Hari Kiri. Thank God for Lent... and the fact that no one likes me and all my friends left me and I have no one to drink the traditional Holy Thursday case of Foster's with.
See? Happy as shit. Fuck You McCarthy, you fucking Irish barbiturate.
Why Lent? I gave up suicide this year. Not like last year. What a mess last year was. Still have dirt under my nails...
From the Boston Herald:grown-up talk on drinking age
Beer and wine should be 16 to purchase. Hard liquor should be 18. There should be no rule against drinking in the home. In other wods, I should be able to give my kid a glass of wine at Christmas. Thousands of years of tradition spoiled by a bunch of crybaby nannies who want to parent the world but couldn't control their own kids.
It is possible to have a beer without getting drunk, if it's illegal, that's not worth it. So kids will binge. It's economics. No underage drinker is ever going to "just have a sip" or "just have one" no matter what they tell their parents the day after puking all over the duvet and pissing on the couch. But if they are at dinner with mom and dad, if they aren't going to get thrown in jail and raped by some tweaked-out freak over an 18 pack of Bud Light, they would be a hellovalot more responsible with booze. Kids like to be all grown-up like and sophisticated, and besides, a lot of booze tastes plain awful, if they knew that going in there'd be a lot less drinking going on.
Face it Puritans, most of the people who get wasted on the weekends are well over 21, and everyone knows that you have too much time on your Carrie Nation hands to have any idea where your particular kids are.