Now that we’re back at the news desk here at Vomitola, propping our feet up and adjusting our green visors, we aim to please! I see from our top searches that all you people have wanted for the past three years is pictures of Adam Ant.
Well, my little libertines, your wish is our command. We aim to please! We are friend, not foe. Anyway, clicky clicky on that fine image above, and you will purchase yourself a fine copy of Mr. Ant’s autobiography from Amazon. From this we will receive approximately 3 cents. A Place in the Country will soon be ours! We’ll call it Hell’s Eight Acres.
This book is a corker, rest assured. The review blurb calls it ‘A whirlwind story of sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, suicide attempts and deranged stalkers.’ We really ought to sue the book for borrowing so liberally from our own life stories, but that’s a bit too long for a good tagline, so we let them live.
In Vomitola canon law, Adam and the Ants are a political party, historically in opposition to the Morrissey party. In a final insult back in ought-four, The Ants banished the Morrisseys to Canada. So one might imagine that Morrissey should be properly chagrined to discover Adam Ant’s baby-holding antics predated his by a good 15 years:
Is that the same baby? How is this possible? This baby is not cowed by Morrissey, however. He sees right through Morrissey’s stance. Adam Ant is laughing all the way to the Human Bondage Den.
But thanks for stopping in! Next time I’ll put the kettle on.