I come to, on a pile of red ribbon and torn lace, lipstick on the pillow. There are heart shaped lollipops ground into the carpet and I know I have either finished all the Hendricks or had a lovely valentine’s day. The beauty is that one need never know.Â
I fear I may have missed some news while in a fog of love and smiths tribute action, so I scan the most serious, most important items of the day. Hrmm, Justin Bieber has an opinion about something, that’s cute…Sandra Bulllock enjoys making scat porn…Natalie Portman is having a boy, which means you can all think about the tiny penis she has inside her…wow, I guess nothing has happened in the world since Friday. Which is a fine supposition, because I find I just don’t care about anything anymore. This planet is doomed, our elected officials are not only unapologetic corporate shills, but they are mainly all asshats. At least they are winning the war against women! Damn ladies and their rape-rape.Â
Ah but the Flaming Lips have put out another psychedelic multitrack experiment. To properly experience it, you have to gather 11 people in a room with youtube playing devices, and get them all to buffer up these separate videos and hit play at the same time. I can’t be bothered with any of that. Knowing 11 different people, that is. But the essence of the whole thing is great. The song is called “Two Blobs Fucking”, and that truly speaks to the level of interest I can take in things right now. Whatevs Egypt, repugs, and Barack “keep ’em locked up without trial for I am KING”. Two Blobs Fucking? Yeah, now you’re talking.