Tag Archives: what would david bowie do

Who wants to know?

Everyone is a pervert. You should all stop using Google, although I am amazed at how many of these terms we legitimately discussed. If you can call discussion of gum jobs legitimate.

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What *is it* that Makes Guns Seem So Appealing These Days?

Ever feel like you got off on the wrong train, stuff like, pill on the wrong planet?  Maybe that is why I keep having to move around.  You spend too much time in one place, and barnacles begin to colonize.  That, and you find you have slept with everyone.  I love this pretty little town, and quite a few of the people in it, but this Lambchop was destined for bigger things.  So while Licketysplit is having her day ghostwritten (a concept yet more fresh and novel than my get rich quick idea of a service plan in which you pay someone to communicate thoughtfully to others for you!), while she plots world domination from the kiddie pool*, I will be locked in my studio, not just making work but hatching schemes.  Hopefully Five Years will see me having 5 ounces of salad opposite David Bowie.  

I am going to go ice skating and think about it. 

*I emailed her to ask if someone was ghost writing her replies to me.  the answer came back “maybe!”  Chilling! 


Pants descending a staircase

Lamby and I had a delirious time doing the Frug with Mr. Bowie last night. That man is the epitome of “well-preserved.” A work of art. I wish I could say the same for the crowd. Everyone else apparently trucked in from Worcester. It is quite possible that they were expecting a Monster Truck show. It is also quite possible that they were all a bunch of randy bi-sexual drug addicts 30 years ago, as they sat stolidly through newer material but popped up like weebles for “Ziggy Stardust.”

I am adopting a new world view, a real seismic shift for me. It is tentatively titled “What Would David Bowie Do?”


Me: I don’t feel like going to the gym today.

Me: *snaps rubber band on wrist* What Would David Bowie Do?

Me: Houseboy, summon my personal trainer, and my cosmetic dentist, just for the hell of it!

This is sure to work wonders. Let’s try that again.

Me: I don’t have enough money

Me: *snaps rubber band on wrist* What Would David Bowie Do?

Me: I know, I’ll IPO!

To that end, I’m going to start selling Vomitola.net email addresses and premium memberships at $100 a pop. Look for Lambchop and I at the next show in June, waving a glittery pink banner reading “PANTS.” You could join us!