Tag Archives: Steve Strange

Oh what to do…


I asked Steve Strange what to do about feeling blue, and he launched into a story about overdosing in a hotel whirlpool. So his friends order pizza and when it arrives, they pay the delivery man to shuttle ol’ Steve off to the ER. I said “feeling blue” not “turning blue.” But you can’t stop that cheeky monkey when he’s on a tear. But that reminds me of one of my favorite things to do when I am blue, eat pizza. So without further ado, a LIST:

Things to do when you are blue
1. Eat pizza
2. Klonipin (does not matter if you swallow it, look at it, or just think about it. it will make you feel better).
3. Wardrobe! (do something with yourself, for god’s sake)
4. Deep breaths (sexy ones, if possible)
5. Have sex (again, try to make it sexy, if possible)

Things not to do when you are blue
1. Listen to songs on repeat
2. Cry in a public bathroom
3. Hitch a ride to the ER in a pizza wagon (sorry, Steve!)
4. Look up the lyrics to Warlocks’ “Suicide Note”
5. Watch “Stroszek” (see how that turned out?!)

Please let me know if this list changes your life!

What Would Vomitola Do?

Some of you may be wondering what it’s like to be Vomitola. It’s rigorous, for starters.

The other day I was at Target buying a huge monstrosity pack of toilet paper, and I was feeling rather grumpy about the whole endeavor, but then I realized I was the silly person who insists on dabbling in the work of the normal, and I could have sent my assistant.  Suddenly the whole errand became a lark! How exciting to get out and mingle with the common folk. They’ll go back to their barns and sheds and culverts and hunker down with microwaved meals, but I’ll get to go home and be me! It is not possible to have pleasure without a little suffering, even if the suffering is the exclusive domain of Target shoppers who are not I.

If I keep my sunglasses on, there is a good chance I won’t even get recognized. The perfect crime!

Every morning, I sleep in, and then Mr. H prepares me a cup of coffee. He was supposed to go to Finland this week, and I was already quailing at the prospect of making my own coffee. It is simply impossible. If I didn’t have people, I don’t know what. Well, I would use my natural pluck and intellect and charm to find more people, that’s what.

Still in my dressing gown, I drape myself languidly at my desk, congratulating myself on its understated style. I open iTunes and inevitably blast a little Visage. A rightfully adoring subject gave me one of these babies, so of course I have the highest quality musical experience one can have with a laptop. Top shelf, all the way. I summon my accountants and have them peer into the money bin, and then I reflect on what needs to be accomplished for the day. Then I assign those tasks to other people, although if they don’t want to be fired, they should have already known what they needed to do.

Mr. H is in awe of my wakeless path through the storms of fortune each day, and he consulted me about a work-related matter. Work is such a groggy and distant concept, but I thought I’d humor the little jackanapes. It was cute how he screwed up the courage to ask, and the diamond necklace didn’t hurt either. “Tell me about Steve Strange,” he said. I pointed out that Steve once spent more than £100,000 on drugs in under a year. “Well, that priest on the news the other night spent $4,000 per month on porn,” he offered. Oh, darling. No. That’s a mere $48,000 per annum, and think of the exchange rate! Accountant!

After much discussion and careful consideration, he selected the following for the opening screen of a PowerPoint presentation.

Now he will know what it’s like to triumph. He’ll either be fired or promoted to CEO, no doubt.

So next time you’re in a bind, feel free to ask us how to proceed. If there is anything in life we have in spades, it’s ideas! We are imagineers.

Every Day is Halloween

Trick or Treat with Steve Strange

Battle kittens, we went trick or treating with Steve Strange. Look, that’s yours truly with the little mustache!

We called Steve back from safari only to cause him great psychic trauma when we found the the local politician’s haunted donut cavern was shuttered. Not running for re-election. Oh well. Democrats used to stand for free donuts for all, but what of this year? Are times really that tough? Are we just a bunch of poverty stricken Roombas zooming around, moaning about a little cat shit in our path, while other people flaunt ungrammatical signs about Obama making us MARRY OUR SISTAR? It’s time for a rally, my little wasabi peas.

Dear Steve Strange,

I think I have forgotten the capacity to love another human being after a few emotionally tumultuous years. I don’t know if I’m depressed or if having such a character flaw is depressing! Or are my family and friends just that awful? One of them snores, and another interrupts constantly, and yet another taps his teeth with his fork by accident with each bite he takes. And then there are those people from the tea party railing about. I want to start a new life under a new name, where none of them will ever find me. Is being a hermit a viable option these days? I just don’t care at all, Steve.

-Faded to Grey

Dear Faded:

You know, I try to be rather a kind human being, having experienced some humbling times in my own life, but really, you make me sodding sick. Sicker than cold turkey heroin withdrawal while tied to a bed.

You are speaking with a man who has been in a hot air balloon and spent £100,000 on drugs in under one year. ONE year! Have you ridden an elephant? Bedded Robert Palmer? I thought not. I don’t want to hear one more measly whimper about whether or not your life is dismal. It is. Let’s sally forth operating under that impression.

As for the people in your life, if they are putting up with you, you should assume they are even worse than you, and you should sack them. As for this tea party, well, a party always cheers me up, so why not have at it? Where do you store your doilies and your glitter cannon?

love, Steve Strange

*advice is intended for entertainment purposes only. is there any purpose save entertainment?*

V2: the Vomitola Summit

Although we can see Russia from right over here, sometimes the great heads of state must convene. And so with much fanfare and slicing of cantaloupe for continental breakfast, did Licketysplit journey from the New England seat of Vomitola to its New York office. Apparently the world has problems that not even Steve Strange can solve. Everywhere one is met with Audio/Visual Terror! Filthy, stringy men in fishnet quartershirts play bucket drums, people screech about poor cell phone connections, a terrier will stop and crap right in front of you! And so we pored over a hefty agenda that included staring out over the East River, gadding, lolling, letting you live (however ill-advised) and climate change (there was some). Of course, anytime the V2 unites there is bound to be dissent. Some of you do not approve of our zero tolerance policy toward mom-jeanshorts while others fight for the right to employ the term “irregardless”.

Over the hubbub of protest, much progress was made. We diagnosed ourselves with Asperger’s through a helpful online quiz, and, after much careful debate, determined that:

“At the end of the day, it is what it is.”

The controversy of who is “The Mary” continued, with Licketsplit gaining the upper hand in designating Lambchop “The Mary”.

This matter is far from over. Look for Lambchop to declare Licketysplit “The Mary” in the future. Will it be skywritten, will it be etched into the nose of a neutron bomb dropped on a muslim country? Every nation is permitted its secrets!

At last it was time for the summit to adjourn for the Veuve had been drained, the last goose slain, and the flag bunting due back at the rental. Your Lambchop is quite bereft, but I have decided to follow all those thoughtful reader suggestions on how to handle depression. I joined a club! Just waiting for everyone else to show up.