While Licketysplit is filling buckets, buckets full of love, I am covering the phones here. It reminds me of when we had a Sunday radio show. We were doing lesbian kisses before they invented them for TV. But that was only because we were hoping it might offend someone. Anyway, one time after the usual 4-hits-of-acid-saturday-wake-up-go-to-taco-bell-sunday, we arrived at the station and wolfed down some burritos. I played “the Choke” and “Lunchbox” while ol’ Skanky LaRue was off puking. Get well soon darling!
I am celebrating Valentines Day in a lofty fashion- by eating an enormous onion bagel with melted cheese and tomato. I assure you, it is a most romantic sandwich.
If I lack spirit today, it is because I threw a Valentine Ball at my house this weekend. We had a fog machine, a dazzling array of baked sweets, and a glass punch bowl filled with tequila. The walls were covered in construction paper hearts, heart tinsel, and red paper lantern lights. It was really beautifully done, thanks to the help of my roommates, and an opinionated six year old. Me and Echo hung hearts and decorated cupcakes in hot pink sugar and tiny red candy lips. The party itself was a whirl of dancing and cherry filled Kitty Dukkake. I am pretty sure I had a good time, for I recall delighted faces, dancing to “Xanadu”. I am also pretty sure I didn’t get into any fights, fall down the stairs, or start stroking my roommates’ chest hair and calling them “papi”.
Yesterday I was not awake for very long. Mainly long enough to watch Footloose, which I had never seen before. It has probably been a while for most of you, so let me remind you: Footloose is inexpressibly painful in its dorkiness. And while I love dancing movies, the one part of the body that I don’t want to see “loose” are the feet. Or that musical theater thing where people bow their legs, knees knocking back and forth. I must have a chat with you, 1980’s, and find out just what the hell we were all thinking. One interesting factoid about this film is that nearly all the cast went on to successful careers afterward. Mysterious. Since the film I am currently making is approximately 50 times as awful as Footloose, perhaps its release will catapult me into untold riches.
My future finances thus secured, I bought two import box sets of Morrissey singles, spanning decades of Morrissey. It is the age of Morrissey. All Morrissey, all day. Which is very fitting for Valentines Day. I think i will kick off the next hour with “Unloveable”. We’ll be right back after Licketysplit is done yodeling her groceries.
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