Tonight, I'm handing over the, uh, interface to my friend Devyn. You can't reach him cuz he's not sure about the fame part yet.
This is dedicated to the most beautiful person at work:
Just looking at your extrordinarily beautiful face, with all it's splendor, bursting at the seams with grace. Hold on a moment while I go grab a bucket- I may just puke- you know- just in case. It reminds me of frolicking naked in a field full of flowers, not caring how much time has been wasted-fuck it! It's been hours. Hey look, nice face, we're almost at those two towers! But back to your precious little mug, just a little glimpse of it, 12 beer I'll have to chug-a-lug! I just swallowed a bug! What sort of facial creams and ointments do you apply? Why? because when it comes to your looks, the limit is the sky. Yup. Way up there. I know, I know. It's pretty goddamn high! No, dumb face! I can't fly! Are you stoned, you know, high? Actually, come to think of it, you kind of resemble a piglet, that nose never stops, you are always wigglin' it. And that hair looks like a tornado, a really messed up afro. Or maybe you live on the street selling your dirty clot like a ho! Speaking of your dirty clot, it smells like green and lumpy snot. You're not very graceful or hot, you move and shake it like some malfunctioning robot! Fuck I need a shot! Fuck the shot! Gimme the whole bottle- I need a lot! Your ears are the size of a satellite dish. What's with all that ear wax? Please! I am trying to keep down my tuna fish. I could go on saying a hell of a lot more, but since it's quite apparent that you're a filthy scum sucking whore. The rest of what I'd like to get off my chest would just be a fucking bore!
I'm performing this downtown for the next week. Tickets go on sale at midnight! All the proceeds go in my mother fucking pocket!
Tuesday, November 13
Downstairs Up Here
I don't anyone who doesn't love these guys. Instant funky fun. One of those outfits that makes you think that, to your eternal detriment, you've really missed out on something by not having lived on London over the past 2 decades (kinda the way it used to be with NYC, pre: the Great Cleansing). Anways - this is a track I did with with swiped vocal bits from "Romeo" and "Good Luck" ::
So....I've kinda stopped partying. Contrary to what I used to think, brain cells do not spontaneously regenerate themselves - and none of the social workers I know want anything to do with me, at least on a professional basis. And this sober world - you know, the one they call "reality"...it's just plain weird. Everything takes forever. Anyhow, here's a new track with vocals by Barabra Tucker & Afrika Bambaataa ::