IT'S NEVER TOO EARLY

Today, midtown New York City was dotted with men dressed as Santa Claus. I spotted eight of them from a single vantage point. What is the meaning of this nonsense, you ask?? They were handing out fliers to let people know that tickets are now on sale for the most spectacular celebration ever - The Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me and my best friend, Midge Turner, have always wanted to be Rockettes. We stayed up all night training one time. We must have done a million kicks in the classic Rockette style. Knee, kick, knee, kick. After that night we thought we were shoe-ins.




Given this history, I still think it's too early to be fliering for a corny Christmas show. Do I need to remind everyone that it's AUGUST??????? I believe I've ranted about this subject before.

I'm going to need a lot of Miller Chill to get through the holidays this year.



I haven't tried it yet but I read a review of it that compares it to Tequiza and Zima so I pretty much know that it's going to be my favorite beverage of all time.

THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MUSIC

Oh, how I wish this product and I didn't share a name. Maybe it's me, but I don't like being associated with things that cause "gas with oily discharge, inability to control bowel movements, oily or fatty stools, and oily spotting", to quote an article from cbs.com.

I know, I know. It's pronounced ally. Still. Too close for comfort.

Guuhh. Grossssssssssss.

SPAM POETRY Vol. 5

At four, the spectators leave in pairs, off
Rise, to the muffled chime of churchbell choir.
Or by the loud hand of painting, always puts.
Beneath a pile of corpses, lying massed
For any part of them we can make out
Rain. We are forced to fly,
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,
will be penciled on the coffeeshop menus.
shortcake, waffles, berries and cream
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
IX. After the Great Northern Expedition
To reach out into its own vanishing
Sculpting each tree to fit your ghostly form
As if your absence now concluded long ago.
By what it seems to have moved toward. In any
Gray the cloud-like oaks
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
Empty streets I come upon by chance,
XX. To the Pole


This is a special day. Not only did a new spam poem show up in my inbox but it was accompanied by an oh-so-helpful price chart for software.



I wish every item up for sale came with a non-sensical poem. It would make shopping that much more fun!

Please note that there is a line in this poem that was also included in Spam Poetry Vol. 4. I wonder - is the mysterious spam poet getting writers block? Or, is "The Great Northern Expedition" a recurring theme we should keep watching for? I'm on the edge of my seat! It's like a goddamn friday episode of Days.

BANANARAMA CAN SUCK IT

Man, It really is too bad that I actually like the song Cruel Summer otherwise there would be no redemption for these hacks.
So alright, I know that A LOT of people did A LOT of thing that they regret in the eighties...but c'mon! I was watching VH1 Classics this afternoon, whilst trying to get some computing done, when suddenly comes the video for Banaramas (not really Banaramas) Venus.
Let me share with you now some vid captures:

--Nice dance, asshole


--More awful dancing, from an even bigger asshole

...And my personal fav:

--Scary Pawing... ROAAAAR!


As I see it, these "nappy-headed ho's" dont have the right to emote with such frivolity to a song and lyrics which arent actually their own. Sure, cover songs are fine, and can be fun; but a certain amount of respect, I feel, should be payed to the original artist.
The song was originally written by '60s band Shocking Blue (one of my fav's). They did NOTHING to deserve this injustice. Just look how much cooler they looked in all their authenticity:




I put this right up there with ORGY covering New Orders Blue Monday


and POWER STATION (a "supergroup" comprised of robert palmer, among others) covering Get it on (bang a gong) by T-Rex

SPAM POETRY VOL. 4

I probably say this every time but, this is a good one.


On their own little seat cushions, wearing soft caps
Your red cheeks radiant against the wind,
VIII. Russia: The Great Northern Expedition
into early blooming.
Then, the inevitable blizzard
I've drifted somewhat from the distant heart
Watching calisthenics from the grandstands.
They move against, or through, or by, or toward.
Of too much truth to do much more than lie
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
Still has to be intoned, as in a lonely
She stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeper
More beautiful than anything in this world.
The Boyg of Normandy . . .
Everywhere, utterly.
That square Oh, 56 x 56
Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,
III. Chronology of Northern Exploration
for the flushed boys are muscular
I bring down a bit of its light