Tag Archives: tunes

All Tomorrow’s Pants


Fall In Love with Someone

David Bowie, the Man of the Pants, gave a stunning performance. This is the creature who invented or renewed everything I like about life in this century. He played Station to Station!!! He wryly requested that the audience not sing along to the chorus of “All the Young Dudes”. The power of that voice, that presence…it’s twitterpating, it’s Pantastic!

In addition, Clammy and I, social scientists that we are, have discovered the secret to a successful date. Only go on a Date with an attractive someone you really like, who also likes you. Thank you Mr. Drinkwater, for being a most charming escort. We scheduled all the major Date Highlights implicit in the Win a Date with Lambchop, from a nervous phone call to an awkward pause beneath the porch light.

As if it could have been any better, Helen did an excellent job of Parking and not killing anyone. Every day should be arranged to be that good!

-xo

Love Springs Eternal

I may be lousy at romance, I may not be able to keep a hamster alive, but my pal Clammy sticks by me. It’s because She’s always right, and I am infinitely quotable!! So during that horribly pedestrian performance of The Furtive Masturbator, I stood up, and read this to my best friend:

I wish i had an evil twin/ Running Around doing people in

I wish i had a very bad / And evil twin to do my will

To cull and conquer, cut and kill/ Just like I would if I weren’t good

And if I knew where to begin

Down and down he’d go/ How low no one would know

Sometimes the good life wears thin

I wish i had an evil twin

My evil twin would lie and steal/ And he would stink of sex appeal

All men would writhe /Beneath his scythe

He’d send the pretty ones to me/ And they would think that I was he

I’d hurt them and I’d go scot free/ I’d get no blame and feel no shame

Cause evil’s not my cup of tea

Down and down he’d go/ How low, i would not need to know

All my life there should have been

An evil twin.

Who knew that Stephin Merritt’s work is such a Bonerkiller?

-xo

Drinky Song

Smashy da co-co-nut, hit it with a Mallett!

Crack it open and suck out da JOOOCE!

Lick the milk up you dirty little monkey,

wipe it off your chin, don’t be so OBTOOOOOSE!

Ok, ok, so I had some drinks the other night. Ok, i dove into a Scorpion Bowl. Nobody’s perfect. Luckily, it’s all part of the Liquid Diet. Nothing but soup broth and gin and tonics, at regular intervals. So tonight we turn up the swedish pop music and pour out the Ancient Situation and its all To Your Health!

-xo

Here Come Cowboys

Me and my pal Violet went to see the Psychedelic Furs last night. And what else can I say but it was Captain Awesome. We were right up front, kissing distance from the legendary band, and they sounded great!

The assembled fans, on the other hand, were a hideous nightmare of wattles and male pattern baldness, and lousy haircuts. People just don’t take a cue from their idols anymore. They are content to shuffle about, mouth-breathing and unkempt, watching Richard Butler slink around in slim trousers. You can’t help it if you are old and decrepit. But you can help looking it. Surely there is something better than an old man sweater lurking in your closet. I consider it an affront to show up to a rock show looking like a substitute teacher, and a poor way of paying tribute to a band that you love.

Where, oh where have all the Beautiful People gone? These halls always used to be filled with such sullen and pretty faces. Tonight I am going to stay in with Jarvis Cocker and Kitty Dukakis.

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?”

Example:

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!

-xxoo

Hello, Ian Curtis

I saw him again this morning. It has been a while (because I am late to work every day). But there he was this morning on my train, cialis The Ian Curtis Guy. He looks like him, purchase stands like him, moves like him, and most importantly he never looks happy. Of course, he also never looks at me. I have smiled and gazed in his direction (he is not good looking , he looks like Ian Curtis!) but he is far too focused on looking like Ian Curtis to pay any mind to yours truly. He stood 2 feet from me (I want to make him a sandwich and sing him “Heart and Soul” in a goofy falsetto) but then we reached our stop and he disappeared, as always, onto the harbor, leaving me once again powerless to declare “I have this friend- he looks just like Ian Curtis!”

-xo

Rock in Pictures

This is my roomie S. at our impromptu karaoke party on Saturday. I tear up when he sings I’m Not in Love. Even with the pornorific pencil moustache.

Last night one of the greatest rock bands ever was in our neighborhood. The first time I ever had a psychedelic snack, I was watching the video for Under the Milky way when they kicked in. I have not been the same ever since. Which is why I had to do a urine test when I applied for a job at a movie theater. Don’t worry, I always carry a spare. Oh but they still got it. Marty informed us that he has so much talent and charisma, it was bound to ooze onto the first two rows and coagulate there. At one point he needed a stool to support the weight of his genius. WE LOVE MARTY!

I quit my job. But I got another. I am going home to watch Bartleby.

Here are some more things that ROCK:

1. Leaving for sunny Berlin in a week-ish.

2. Orange Julius

3. Going to the roller rink this weekend.

4. Starsky and Hutch!!!

-xo

A Pocket Full of Poses

There is a certain kind of mood, a scent in the air as soon as it stops being so wretchedly cold, and suddenly I am 15 again, walking the long walk past Journal Square and the jailhouse (the inmates howling out the windows for us to lift our skirts) to my high school, my headphones tuned to Book of Love, Howard Jones, Heaven 17 and Depeche Mode.

Well, it is not quite that time yet, but I have been waking up listening to Lifestyle and Freezepop and whaddya know it’s skirt-lifting and chirping birds all over again.

-xo

Reverie

I was at the gym today, feeling the dark side of the force. Flexing anger through burning muscle. Although, there’s only so much posturing I can do when I carry a Hello Kitty discman. Anyway, I was at the part of the song that goes “tell me baby how does it feel/I know you like the roll of the limousine wheel”. Everytime I hear that my mind departs from the physical effort. I am dreaming of riding in a long, dark car, ensconced in soft fake white fur to which perfume still invitingly clings, in perfect makeup and glasses as shiny as the windows.

Well, its time for more pretense. Tonight was made for dancing!