Thursday, April 19, 2012

Random Notes from a Suburban Derelict Vol. 3




For those not hip to the Toxic Towers you can click on the link over to the right and see what the esteemed Mr. Gulfboot is up to these days, Gulfboot Johnson is one of the few bona fide fucking internet genius's out there an i highly suggest you read, he's much smarter and more well spoken that my white trash ass and come next monday Gulfboot will be turning 28, yes it's his birthday and if i'm gonna be 31 he must be almost 28, of course i might be lying about that shit but i'm not lying about his birthday or his internet genius or the fact that Gulfboot has written a movie that is being shot right now in merry ole' Eng-guh-lan, but more on that later or as Gulfboot sees fit to tell you...

But what's happening at the lounge you say? i dunno, had this idea for writing a story for every song on Viva Hate, the first Morrissey solo album but since that would take to fucking long i figured i'll only do a few, got ideas for two of them so watch out for those kids, i'm sure you're all waiting anxiously, practically bursting with anticipation for that, got some other stuff i'm gonna get around to as well, finish that Fathers and Sons bit and what not but well i'm just rambling now ain't i?

Last night i got good and fucking drunk on the cheap local beer, yeah motherfuckers Iron City it is, smoked to many cigarettes, yelled at the telly in a crowded pub and generally made a nuisance of myself, i guess that counts as a good night but i paid for it a bit today and now i think i need to smoke some cheeb and stare at the ceiling, kinda feels like i already did in a strange sort of way, anyway i've always wanted to see a stripper dance to this song, i do believe that would take fucking, uh balls or something, maybe not balls per se but an extremely self confident adult entertainer who didn't just come out and flash ass in order to score more cash but one who had the skill and beauty to pull it off proper, dare i say an artiste, like what i imagine strip clubs used to be like in fucking Ellroy novels or something, a bit like Mary Jane dancing to Morphine's "You Look Like Rain" back in the day, it had class, it what fucking sexy, you didn't want to see her naked you just wanted to watch her move, watch her eyes and expressions and mouth, anyway i digress, hard to believe this song is damn near 20 years old, i remember hearing it when i was working in good old OCMD at the end of a long summer as i struggled to the finish line stoned and drunk, my how little things have changed...

5 comments:

Diary of Why said...

In college sometimes I used to change up the Liz Phair with some Jeff Buckley, if I was feeling somber. Which was...often.

I remember sitting on my bed with a boy I thought I liked playing the Hallelujah album for him. He didn't like it. That really should have been a clue.

Diary of Why said...

Not Hallelujah. Grace. Argh.

sybil law said...

Man I love this song!
The one strip club I went to, supposedly a fairly high class one, the chicks just came out and got naked right away. I was bored within minutes. I mean, no show? No tantalizing? Ugh. Stupid. I can't imagine any of those girls dancing to this - it would definitely take someone with balls. So to speak.

nursemyra said...

I saw Jeff Buckley live at the Phoenician Club in Sydney many years ago. Still one of my favourite concerts.... I get tears prickling behind my eyes when I listen to his songs now.

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