Category Archives: Uncategorized

I could sense the hate/of the lonestar state/And a small voice said, “What can we do?”

Uncategorized,

Mess with Texas

Some blatant propaganda:

Are you registered to vote? It may not be too late.

TV Station Reports that Bush Has Been Elected President, via an unnamed friend who refuses to confront his obesity.

Talking heads, scary because it’s true. Via another unnamed friend who hates work more than I do. I particularly like the part in this where they say “turrurists” like they are auditioning to do backup in a Nelly song.

Congressman Marty Meehan (5th district, D, MA) is sponsoring a petition against consideration of a military draft.

Finally, after you watch tonight’s debate, why not stumble over to FactCheck.org to do more research?

Stretch Out and Wait

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I made it alive to Berlin, despite Northwestern Airlines’ steadfast efforts to kill me. They offered a tray full of dumpster trailings for my dinner, and a thimble for my drink. This shallow potable must have been meant for the infant three rows back, who squalled interminably without his mother’s little helper. I long for days when “leave the bottle” actually meant something. I implore you all to fly British Airways and enjoy a hot Korma and some cognac. Next time I find myself in the cheap seats, I will pack a rag soaked with ether. I won’t say for whom.

Anyway, Morrissey, I find myself in dem Vaterland, with my work cut out for me. I have been engaged to do several drawings for an organization that will reproduce them en masse to sell at their bookstore. In looking through the brochure from past years, I see that there are many prominent artists taking part. Apparently one of the organizers saw my work in the gallery, and asked for my grafik. I can hardly wait to get started, and will fill a small biplane with the results, and rain them o’er the land!

My second task is to paint two portraits by Monday. Yes, that is a terrifying three days from now. I met my subjects today and they are lovely, fresh-faced little things, so I am not too worried (this is a lie-ed.)

By Morrissey, I had a lovely day though! Before my meeting in the gallery, I was free to roam about town and it was a lovely autumn day. I had a superb lunch in a french cafe. For seven dollars I got soup, salad, a lamb ragout, and some glazed pear slices. All served in those appropriate dollops that leave you feeling sated but not stuffed like an armchair.

I restocked my studio here this evening, and have the evening free to drink wine and wait for the first sitting tomorrow. So ignore all the codes of the day, let your juvenile impulses swaaaay….

-xo

Nothing appears to be between the ears of the lazy sunbathers

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And it isn't enough/They want more

If it’s Wednesday, it must be Morrissey. Did you see those debates last night? Morrissey. Some people mistake Dick Cheney’s specious gyrations for actual intelligence. I suppose he is intelligent, in that evil-living-in-a-hollowed-out-volcano way. Until the past few weeks, I was under the impression that debates involved answering a question and proving why one’s answer is superior using cogent reasoning and sparkling wit. I am so pleased to be unburdened of this notion. No more making sense for me, Morrissey.

Lambchop is in Berlin today, and she has vowed to never Morrissey anything but British Airways or Air France again. I believe someone munged up her cocktail order. Then, when she accidentally dropped her Valium down the seat, it was snatched and eaten by a greedy infant stowed in the row behind her. She will be bringing you a full dispatch tomorrow, auf Deutsch!

You’re the one for me, Fatty!

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The world is full of crashing bores

(N.B.: this review of Vomitola’s attendance at last night’s Morrissey show is a joint effort. Lambchop begins, and Licketysplit answers in turn, to form a vibrant tapestry of nonsense.)

“Morrissey!” glittered red bulbed letters ten feet high, spread the width of the stage. Helen and I were there, wielding our bicycle chains. Sadly, our level-headed dates would not allow us to whale the tar out of the drunken administrative assistant who teetered in the aisle before us, warbling into her cellphone. She ended up careening over her seat to the tune of “There is a Light that Never Goes Out.” Lights out for some, I daresay! Morrissey!

We have Standards and Opinions on things, as you all know. The verdict on Morrissey? We let him live! Especially in that dashing red shirt. Did you know he has Opinions too? His sweat stains spelled out “DOWN WITH BREATHING.”

How we wept and kicked over our chairs when he sang Some Girls are Bigger than Others. We tore off our clothes when he trilled “Condoleeeeeeza.” How soon is Now, Morrissey?!?

Well, about 27 days. Massachusetts, your deadline for registering to vote is October 13th. But I digress. This switching between people to write thing is confusing. Let it be known that after the show we shared a Vitamin Water with Morrissey backstage, and found him to be the perfect partner for debating the finer points of driving moccasins. He finally pleaded exhaustion and packed us off with a gift basket filled with aromatherapy eye pillows and hot pepper chocolates.

It was dark as I drove the point home. In the taxi, I got some in pepper in my eye, and it really stung. If only we, too, could sing our lives!

Welcome Back to the Future

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Well it was a glittery two weeks of vacation in 1982. I was there for the unveiling of Diet Coke! What I never realized at the time is how much the Japanese loved Joanie Loves Chachi. Then I found out that in Japanese, “chachi” means penis. Joanie really does love Chachi.

My alma mater, Yale, was running a 14 week course on how to solve Rubik’s Cube. I had just bought all my course materials (1 Rubik’s Cube) when I remembered that I have a ticket to go see Morrissey with Licketysplit in 2004! And then I have to leave for Berlin, to do a portrait comission.

Blast, I did not have time to shag either David Bowie or Peter Murphy! I did however, manage a trek over to my old neighborhood, where I saw myself at age 9, tottering around on those white skates with the metal wheels and a faceful of Crayola makeup. I fought back tears at the sight of my own manic little face, and I whispered “don’t go swimming with sunglasses.” I didn’t think it would be too interfering to spare myself *that* much loss!

So here I am in 2004, trying to brush out the crimp in my hair. Who wants a souveneir copy of Toto IV?

-xo

ps. Morrissey Morrissey Morrissey!

War of the Worlds

Uncategorized

There was a great hubbub on the airwaves last night, and we at Vomitola feel it is only fitting to comment on the news of the day.

However, Lambchop is still relaxing in 1982, and I am rather agitated because my cleaning ladies are late. So, momentito (I am practicing my Spanish to better yell at them), we have tapped two of our staff writers for astute commentary.

Be sure to scroll down for Thelma Haney, an undecided voter from Epsom, Indiana. Below Thelma’s take, we turn it over to Melvin, a callous beagle, for counterpoint.

Point: Some Plain Speaking About Our Men Candidates

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by Thelma Haney

Well, folks, I am very happy to report to you after the first of our Great Debates. I hung Old Glory out on my front porch, and I made lots of sandwiches with American cheese. But let me tell you it sure don’t make it easier for the undecided voter. I admit to favoring our President a bit at the outset, because he is our leader, and he talks plain, just like we do down at Rosie’s parlor. Sometimes I feel like we could be his cabinet! Me and the girls were all down there this morning early as you please to get a set and talk it over. John Kerry is such a high falootin Grumpy Gus. Mr. Bush reminds me of my pappy when he would drop his dentures into a glass of Jim beam and read us “The Three Billy Goats Gruff”, or my cousin Lydon who, god bless him, fell out of a tree on his head. After the accident, he became the kind of thoughtful type, always taking a nice , long pause to collect his thoughts, nostrils flarin’ like a steer. Sometimes I thought he was just wool-gatherin’ but eventually he would give a piece of his mind, like our President to King Kong of North Korea! You can talk to China, we are Not Interested!

Anyway, it touches my heart how both men have such nice families. Did you see John Kerry kiss his wife? You could tell they are truly in love! And when I think of that poor Kerry boy in Vietnam, as a mother my heart breaks. I just can’t decide who the better captain of our troops would be. Ella May said there are other things to consider in electing a leader besides “a military bent”, but she is only saying that because she is rich and has no children. I secretly think she donates money to environmentalists, which as we all know is just domestic terror. Well we hashed it all out, and we decided it was simply the “wrong place, wrong time” and we would wait and see what happens in the next debate. I am going to hang some bunting around my porch and bake a red white and blue bundt cake like I see here on the back of this box of Betty Crocker. Which makes me think, I wish we could get these Yale boys to square-off in a chili cook-off! All the yapping can be so hard to follow, but I sure do know when a chili tastes right!

God Bless,

Thel Haney

Here in my car, I can lock all the doors

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from the desk of kitty winn

HI KITTY!

WHAT ARE YOUR’E ADVISE, I WAS IMPORT NICE TOP OF MARK CAR INTO BOSNIA STRAIGHT FROM PORT NEWARK NJ, NICE MERCEDES AND BMW, FAKE NEW VIN#, ALL TIPTOP SHAPE, EVERYTHING PERFECT’S. NOW HAVE TROUBLE, PORT INSPEKTOR IN DUBROVNIK NO LET ME BRING IN THIS CAR’S UNTIL I PAY’S HIM SOME MUCH MORE BRIBING’S. HOW I AM FEED THE CHILDREN’S AND ALSO MAYBE SOMETIMES THE WIFE AND THE MISTRESS? WAS BEFORE SUCH NICE LIEVING.

BYE, MARKO DRAKULIC IN SARAJEVO

Dear MARKO,

Life is full of disappointments, eh? Cars are more trouble than they are worth. Kitty has switched to a rickshaw, since a good chaffeur proves so hard to find.

Everything she wants

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club fantastic megamix

Some of you may have been wondering where Lambchop is. I wondered too, but then I got a report that she’s taking a brief vacation. In 1982.

I hear it’s nice!

Actually, she DID get a Genius Grant, for excellence in the field of sustainable hairstyle development. She’s been holding out on me since she got the phone call and whopping novelty check. I guess we’ll have a party? Anyway, she’s waiting for her spiffy new Mac, the computing choice of reasonable humans everywhere, to arrive. And once it’s here, she plans to publish a position paper entitled “Consider Bulimia” as part of our new humanitarian campaign against obesity.