An Image Consultant and Tasteful Appointments

When reggae was cool for about 5 minutes when I was fifteen I wished I could be black so I could be a Rasta.

Now Rufus Wainwright makes me wish I was a fag. Then I would be all cool and gay like Rufus and people would like me and say I was courageous and edgy and like my brilliant, classically inflected and soulful music. No one accuses you of being "mannered" when you're gay. It's like telling Freddie Mercury, "you're so mannered".


But, noooo. I have to look like a not-too-clever bouncer. I've got about as much gay to me as those guys from Erasure have straight. Which is a shame, because it's a whole potential audience that WANTS you to be a performer up in smoke. And I would have this AMAZING hair if I was gay. Windswept, gun-blue locks with a touch of gaymanly grey at the temples.

It really, really makes me wish I was putting from the rough if you get my drift.


Why can't people remember that most of rock and all of punk music is better when it's mannered? Sometimes trying to be unmannered is the most insincere crap ever. Look at grunge and all that rot.


Liking girls is so 90's.

Here's the T.V. show i want to pitch- Dog Eye For the Cat Guy. It would be all, dogs trying to get cats to like sniffing ass and digging in crap and rolling in worms. Dog Eye For The Cat Guy. Watch for it on Bravo.
 

A Thing Worthy Of No Small Note

Having a place to go and be ultranegative and exorcise my vocabulistic polysyllableisms

is gradually having a positive effect on my everyday life.

I AM a living, breathing organism on this Spaceship Earth.

I think it really DOES point to a deep reserve of tender, inner self-love.

Ju st

somebody e lse's

I Am So Very 'Umble.

One of my favorite characters in Dicken's ouvre is David Copperfield's unctuous, handrubbing monster Uriah Heep. This fella is a Victorian study in facetiousness with his constant allusions to how "'umble" he is.

Well, there is but one facet to the 'umbleness with which I now greet every day. You see, this week I had my first blocked, infected sinus and it has changed me forever. Of all the humbling events that have crossed my path in the last five years (and their number is legion) this one beats Realizing I'll Never Amount To Shit and Here's a Nice Root Canal For You.

I'm told that a kidney stone is one of the cruelest tricks Nature plays on us. My illustrious elder brother Neddie Jingo (byneddiejingo.blogspot.com- sorry, I still can't do that linking shit 'cause I'm too 'umble) has experienced this and likens it to the universe taking a deep breath, plugging all your orifices and blowing hydrochloric acid gas up your dink with great fury. Actually, those are my words but so?

I imagine the kidney stone may be the only thing worse than the miserable plague that was visited upon me on Monday. If God exists and doles out karmic payback for sins, then I must have had my way with Baby Jeezis at knifepoint and then buried him alive at the dump. Y'know wh'ahm sayin'? Heinous shit right there, yo.

Once I busted my shoulder and got my head all assed on codiene and wound up rolling on the bathroom floor, puking and screaming and trying to wave away the psychedelic horrors before my eyes as I banged my ruined shoulder against the tiles. That was like floating on clouds and being fed cherry cordials by plump, pink little angels compared to this.

Once I shoved a knife through my finger. That was like getting faced on Patrone and heroin and floating in a warm pool of extra virgin olive oil while being tickled about the perineum by a bevy of giggling Thai sex workers compared to this.

Once I got hepatitis A and my liver swelled up like a bloated, drowned corpse and my eyes turned the color of piss because piss ran through my veins like acid. I could feel it under my skin, flop piss and flopsweat in my veins, biting huge chunks out of the congestion I'd worked so hard to build up and sending them screaming into my heart.

That was like bungee jumping through corn syrup on a Demerol drip compared to this.

I am so very 'umble. So very, very, very 'umble.

Bobby Lightfoot's Profiles in NeoCon polesmoking felcheteers number 1: George W. Bush

Hail to the chief! Arguably the most bloodthirsty, assmongering psychopath in the history of the universe. This little Terrier of Satan has more blood on his hands than Krom IV of the Zekron system, who tortured and murdered one hundred billion innocents as the galaxy watched.
Y'know how Al Gore invented the internet? This fucking specimen invented every instrument of torture from 1000 B.C. on as he knelt in his bloodspattered cave, plotting and scheming for a time when people would actually be stupid enough to allow him to lie and connive his way into power. He hunkered down, absently tugging at his diseased protuberance and cackling as he invented human suffering and bloodshed. One must never speak his name three times into a mirror lest he appear and snuff any unsuspecting person with a single noisome fart from his lying, corrupt vocal flap.

George Bush- man of the people. The SHIT people.

Bobby Lightfoot's Profiles in NeoCon polesmoking felcheteers number 2: Dick Chaney

holy mary mother of god, would you look at that study in Kthuluesque evil? I'd hold a cross up to his likeness but they're banned in our house because all Christian people will cheat and deceive you with no compunction to achieve their nefarious, though nonexistent, ends.
Flowers literally wilt in this man's path. Anyone coming within 5 yards of him will curdle on the inside like bad bleu cheese and die a slow, fetid death as he cackles and touches himself through his piss-stiffened fly. Everything Nostradamus ever wrote was about this abomination. God coughed up his spleen and moved to Calcutta when this psycho shitstain clawed and chewed his way out of his mother's skull. Dick Cheney could do what 45 years of nucular fuckery couldn't achieve just by opening his mouth and letting the Winds Of Hell suck everything into his polyp-festooned belly. If I saw Dick Cheney on the street I would take a very long pole, tie a wooden stake to it and send him off to Vampire Heaven as he screeched and burped out the blood of a million lambs.

Bobby Lightfoot's Profiles in NeoCon polesmoking felcheteers number 3: Condoleeza Rice

Condoleeza Rice is one deranged lady. She goes around doing more crazy shit that is bad for America than anyone else in history. This woman is so unflinchingly, so remorselessly evil it's amazing we're not all already dead, knocked down by the sheer tidal wave of hate that she emits like a sick, infested ocean of putrid sinus drainage. It's a habit of hers daily to put down in her planner one hundred people that will be slowly garroted by her storm troopers. She goes to blogs to find those brave and true enough to speak of her deadly arts and they are cut down in their beds and she makes their children watch as she eats their still-beating hearts. And then she makes them watch as she turns into a huge, sickly sore ridden bat creature and shits out a perfect crapsculpture of The Smithsonian Institute. Christ, I have to go puke a turletfull of little wriggling, unspeakable things just thinking of this repulsive, putrescent harridan.

By the way, you might be interested to know that when she does this she emits a shrieking sound akin to that made by a once-powerful, righteous nation snapping the dicks off its own boychildren and feeding them by the barrel load to nightmarish, Hieronymus Bosch-like dolphins with human faces and twisted hands that shit out their blowholes because Old Scratch got them.

Condoleeza Rice- Woman of the People. The Lets Make Everything Suck People!

 

Bobby Lightfoot's Profiles in NeoCon polesmoking felcheteers number 4: John Ashcroft

Jesus H. Fucking Christ in Drag. Let me tell you about THIS little bilge rodent of a wartfarm. When they were handing out brains this fuckin' little fistula of a man thought they were gnocci and ate his. No joke- this is a dangerous little broken record of a polesmoking dickburn. Ashcroft's name and picture should be up in the post office so that any Amurrrican can exercise their second ammendment rights and find him and run him down like the craphandling, cheating, poodlebuggering shithose that he is. 'Nuff said!

John Ashcroft! Man of the People- the STINKY people.

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Bobby Lightfoot's Profiles in NeoCon polesmoking felcheteers number 5: Paul Wolfowitz

Holy shit! What a pus-slurping dungbather THIS fucking guy is! LOOK at that psycho neocon lymphdrinker!
This guy, butter wouldn't melt his mouth if you shoved a blowtorch up his ass- at least it doesn't in my recurring dream for a better Amurrrrica. This fucking guy is such a licelike card carrying member of the Fuckup Club that it actually can delay cabinet meetings. But since cabinet meetings now are all about which Middle Eastern nation we're going to shove our best and bravest up the ass of so they can get coke and Special K so W and Condi can get all plowed and make a pinata out of some drifter while they're naked, what the fuck, right?
Paul Wolfowitz: Man Of The People- the STOOPY people.

The STOOPY PEOPLE! AH HA HA HA HA!!

My, that is amusing. 

one-sentence record reviews from bobby lightfoot number 1! Up on th' block is Michael Penn's 1992 masterpiece "Free-For-All"!

Holy crap is this a fuckin' amazing life-changing piece-a-plastic that rules with its thick, evocative paintings of a dark LA inhabited by hot chick ghosts from Old Hollywood, cats picking through the wreckage and thick sheets of beautiful guitar and Chamberlin!

special bonus- there's probly plenty of copies left!
 

happy st. patricks day, you ghastly, ghastly people

now leave me the fuck alone 

Haydn's Organ Mass: brilliant orchestral masterwork or...

...painful growth requiring radiation and surgery?