Are You As Cool As Andy Summers?

Look at this guy. Are you cooler than Andy Summers? I'm not cooler than Andy Summers. I have my days. Or I used to. I bet you're not cooler than Andy Summers. I've got ten bucks says Andy Summers is cooler than you.

How the dickens could Andy Summers be so cool? It's almost unfair. When I was an up-and-coming pop singer for about 5 minutes our label wanted us to have a famous guest artist on our next single; some name recognition to grab the eye. See, this was a hip hop label and that's how you sell hip hop records. Thats' why it's always Fruity B with Master Z and B-Lite featuring Li'l Wang. I love it; they assume the same marketing strategy will work for a white rock band.

So they ask me and I'm of course, like, "yeah, Andy Partridge from XTC. Definitely. You want to move some units Andy's the man." And they're all "who"? Not alot of Deep House in the XTC canon. So, since P-Diddy had had that hit for Biggie Smalls where he ripped off "Every Breath You Take" I of course said, "well, how about the guy from The Police?" Of course they thought I meant Scwhing. Spling. Oh, what was it that the Police's manager called Sting in the beginning...I think it might have been "Dink" or something. Gotta dig out that tome.

No, I meant ANDY GOD DAMN SUMMERS. The man who makes a guitar sound like an orchestra of harps. THAT Andy Summers. The Andy Summers that's like the Methuselah of rock. Andy Summers is Paul McCartney's age. Exactly. This guy was a contemporary of the Stones and Clapton and he knew all those guys. Andy Summers was in the prog band in the 60's called Dantalion's Chariot. Huh? Kidyounot. They recorded for some major in England. Andy was in like 600 bands that recorded failed albums for major labels. Andy was in the new Animals when they reformed. And was in the Zoot Money Big Roll Band. You see him? He's right in the front. Were you in that? I wasn't. I wasn't even in the Little River Band. I was in the Next-To-No-Money Band. I was in the Costs 500 A Day To Keep It On The Road Band But Don't Worry We'll Recoup It Out Of Your CD Sales Band.

Andy was Mike Oldfield's guitarist on the "Tubular Bells" tour. Andy used to play with Gong and all those German proggers. Andy toured with Kevin Coyne and was under retainer with Kevin Ayers when he quit to join the Police. So, Andy was like 38 before the Police even dented the charts anywhere. I love that. Guy was 41 or 42 when they were playing Shea Stadium and getting Song Of The Millenium awards. Truly a vampire who stretches back through the ages. He probably made tea for Beethoven.

Are you as cool as Andy Summers? Did you make two albums with Robert Fripp in the mid-eighties that sounded like a galaxy having a conversation with a rip in the time/space continuum? Not me! I haven't made any albums like that with OR without Robert Fripp. How about you? You made any albums like that? Anybody out there rip off a record or two with Robert Fripp between stadium tours and playing guitar that sounds like an orchestra of harps and not actually being all that amazing technically? I mean, I can certainly pull off the not being all that amazing technically.

Who is as cool as Andy Summers? Are you as cool as Andy Summers?

Epilogue: I'm not even going to waste your time by telling you who the label wanted to have be the guest on our record. And I think it's safe to say by now that I'm not one who's afraid of monopolizing anyone's time.

We never even rerecorded the single, THANK FUCKING GOD. Sometimes it is a blessing beyond compare that Nothing Ever Really Happens.

Except things like Andy Summers being cooler than you and me.

Andy Summers- making-guitar-sound-like-an-orchestra-of-harps Mick-Jagger-Knowing cool musicianPope.

Oh, wait- this wasn't one of those Pope ones. Never mind.

What if the J-Lo naming convention became standard?

Can you identify these money hip hop playaz? Hint: most are on my blog somewherez. Winner getz a capon:

H-Kiss
R-Nix
P-Wolf
B-Light
M-Stew
H-Clint
T-Bolt
K-Bry
P-Pot (ha ha ha ha)
G-Schroed
P-Hilt
B-Getz
C-Mans (that's hard. Think stabbing with a fork)

and finally,

A-Hit

A-Hit, H-Kiss and P-Pot actually sound like hip hop names, huh? That's "bananas, dog." B-Light would be good too. It obviously has to be B-Lite, though, doesn't it? here's my cred, yo: I took a bus through South Central a month after the riots by mistake.

Hey, come on. How the hell else you gonna get from Manhattan Beach to La Mirada?

I was once picked up by my face. You know what they never put in the movies? The inadvertent pissing of oneself.

Sal the Feist's hip hop name is Scoop Doggy Poop. That's a tough, fleabitten little snit right there.

Band name I thought of today: Attack Poodle. Doesn't that sound tough? I've been warming to Gutbucket. It's sort of a glamorous thing, you know?

skeleton wal ksint o abar an dask sfor ab eer an dam op.

This post isn't dirty enough. Fuck. Ass. Truth. Peace. Beauty. Shit. There, that's all of the current dirty words I can think of. Oh- Reading.

Six Degrees of Sir Francis Bacon

A popular Elizabethan dorm game.

Winner got a capon.

I don't know what a capon is. 

Sorry y'all- jest gonna slip one more in- John Paul Jones- P-bass playin' hotel-room wreckin' Led ZeppelinPope

Just because he could be "Pope John Paul III". 

Rufus Wainwright- Supergay Musical GeniusPope

A-ight, here's my last nomination for new Pope. I know Rufus has made a few appearances in my blog already so this should come as no surprise. I just had no idea homos could rock this hard. Tell ya, I'm really glad I'm straight 'cause if I fancied the Hairier Sex I'd be majorly lovesick.

Anyhow, on Rufus' new "Want Two" album, he has a song called "Gay Messiah" which is quite funny ("...He will fall from the stars/Studio 54/And appear on the sand/Of Fire Island's shore..." so he's already got a theme song if he won a round of Spin The Pope. Also, "Want Two" starts with the Agnus Dei set to music. See? The guy's practically Joan of Arc already. And as adept at swordplay.

Maybe if Rufus was Pope we'd get this national obsession out of our minds already. The Queer Eye/VH1 bitch queen thing has worn quite thin for this ol' breeder. Enough, already. If I have to hear that butt pirate blond guy on Queer Eye make another double entendre about fancying organ I'm gonna throw a rod. WE GET IT ALREADY. I wish I could make a zillion dollars with my whole STRAIGHT thing. No one wants to hear about it.

In America, acceptance ALWAYS awaits the Profitable. This is like the civil rights movement of the new millenium. If you are bankable it really doesn't matter if you come from flippin' JUPITER, you're IN.

And we're so proud of our tolerance. How about equal rights for us UNCOMMERCIAL people? People like me who are quietly talented and can't catch a break because our backstory doesn't involve tongueing manass???

Tongueing Manass. A forgotten battle of the Civil War? A pretender to the Korean throne? A forgotten Tibetan philosopher?

We used to have this game back in th' five-minutes-from-fame days. Here's the deal: You can be a huge musical success but one of two things has to happen: you have to either a)go down on David Geffen and no one ever has to know or b) you don't have to go down on him but the whole world has to think you did. Ladies, substitute, oh, I dunno..., um, Phyllis Diller.

Which would it be?

It would be boring playing that game with Rufus, huh? He'd be all, "what do I get if I go down on YOU right NOW, sweet cheeks?" There'd be no tension. Or at least, it would be a different kind of tension.

I keep coming back to two preoccupations, don't I? Jesus and Gays. Hey, there's a band name- "Jesus And The Gays". Seriously. That would be awesome. Anyway, what could it mean? I honestly think it's becuause they're the extremes of each side in the New Civil War. I swear I don't like guys, I mean, I'm quite clear on that by this age. My rule is no sleeping with anything whose ass you can braid.

Maybe I'm tired of them on T.V. and shit and I'm trying to put them to bed by doing to them what the Sex Pistols tried to do to rock 'n' roll. I know I'm tired to death of Jeebus fer one thing. Just exhausted. Everywhere my America seems to be evaporating into the mysts of memorie there he is, all his words in red and shit. He's like a benevolent priest at a funeral. Except he killed the person being buried. Everywhere I fucking turn people are being turned on to The Word. Yeah, "stupid". "Have you heard the word?" "Yeah, it's 'stupid'" And then there's this whole "Who Would Jesus Do?" thing that I don't get at all. I mean, isn't that kind of his business? And what's there to learn from who Jesus would do? Unless it was like Kiaphas (sp.?) or some shit but I doubt it because even though the Jeezmeister was a carpenter he wasn't all on about interior design and from what I hear his wardrobe wasn't flamboyant or anything.

There's this church I drive by that has one of those signs out front where you put up letters and have messages- last week it was "If Darwin Was Right, You're A Monkey's Uncle" which is just flat-out stupid, right? I mean, if Darwin was right, then a monkey is YOUR figurative uncle, right? Fucking morons. They're in such a hurry to disconnect themselves from the natural order because it's just MESSY, y'know? It's all spit and menses and primordial soup and cum and shit and they can't handle being in there, y'know? Well, tough luck, you ignoramuses. You're Soaking In It. And then this week the fucking sign says, dig this- "The Big Bang Theory- God spoke, then BANG!"

What the freaking fuck is that? What's that? I SAW it. I'm not making it up. It's happening today. In YOUR America. In MY America. Or what used to PASS for my America. Where a man could take an acoustic guitar and hit the open road. It used to be me, whatsisname the guitarist, a rented car and 30 radio stations in 30 days. That was the kind of America you could roll with.

and that wasn't even 1979! That was only like six years ago! Ohhhh, things slip away.

But what is happening now sends shivers from my neck to my ass braids. Jumpin' Jehosephat! Heavens to Murgatroid! Jeezum Crow! "God spoke, then BANG!" GAAAAHHHHHHHH. "God Spoke, then BANG!" You know what? That makes my colon clench. It makes my sacroiliac do The Dirty Dog. It makes my nipples itch. "BANG!" Stupid and SO proud of it. These people think it insults Beeby Jeebus to think of an apple being made up of anything other than Apple Atoms. It galls Beeby Creepus that there's all these gross galaxies and shit. EWWWW. It creeps out the Holy Trinity that e=mc2. GROSS.


"Apple Atoms". That's funny.

Rufus Wainwright- Supergay Musical GeniusPope. And assbraids for everyone. An' a apple.
 

John Bolton- Dangerous Neocon Polesmoking Felcheteer Number 6

I'm going to make this as simple as I can. There's nothing wrong with having the courage of your convictions. AS LONG AS YOUR CONVICTIONS DON'T FUCKING SUCK.

It's the same problem we're having with most of these strong silent IDIOTS. Hey, America, will you admire me if I'm really, really resolute in my stance that all the bunnies should be skinned alive???

Wait, don't answer.

YEAH, THAT'S REAL HAIR. HEY JOHN, THE CURTAINS AIN'T MATCHING THE CARPET.

I always wanted to say that. Jesus, just LOOK at this ASSHOLE. The ANGER drips off him like sick fever sweat. What an ASSHOLE. He's one of those people who starts talking all quiet and then gets SHRILLER and SHRILLER until he's all RED and SCREAAAAAAMING from the RIGHTEOUSNESS of his CONVICTIONS.

Yeah, I'll sign the petition to not have him elected. I'll sign it on his FOREHEAD with a FLAT HEAD SCREWDRIVER. "Bobby Aloysius Barnhard McGillicuddy Robinson Manson Lightfoot the XXXXXIIIIIIIIII".

Goddammit, when can I SLEEP??????????

John Bolton- Dangerous Neocon Polesmoking Felcheteer Number 6

Holy Smokes, peace loving people of America! We've got to stop John Bolton from being elected Ambassador to th' U.N.!!!

Oh, wait- that's Michael Bolton. Sorry.

Actually, as long as I'm here, let's deal with this fellow and then we'll move on to the Red Menace.

I know attacking Michael Bolton is up there with making fun of Heart's "Dog And Butterfly", so I will strictly present the facts. Here's the deal:

Couple years back I was doing Frunt of House production for some corporate shindig or another at some palacial hotel on the coast between San Diego and LA. Next door at the Waldork Hysteria there was another corporate shindig, probably R.J. Reynolds or some equally hellbound entity. So who's the entertainment for that one, huh? You guested it- Michael Bolton. Actually, Michael Bolton AND that king of 80's ultra-average sunglasses-mean-you're-cool-registered-trademark boring saxophone, oh, fuck what's his name....hmmm...ummm...oh, christ.

DAVID SANBORN. That's who the other boring prick was who was entertaining The Stormtroopers Of Exxon or whoever it was.

So, a couple of the production people were taking a break from their setup (make sure Michael's teleprompter is up and running, make sure Sanborn's tape of something decent actually playing for him to mime to is free of dropouts etc. etc.) and they came over and hung out with me. They were decent folk, as they rarely are. These sound techs and union roadies are ALWAYS FUCKING ASSHOLES. ALWAYS. No sense of humor, no personality, nothing but "the K2-9008 has a better signal to noise ratio than the XTC-333...blah blah blah...I suck....blah blah....R-556666....I'm a boring ASSHOLE..."

I take it back, these guys were ASSHOLES too. I forgot myself. I've been on antidepressants and feeling magnanimous. So much for THAT.

Anyway, they figured I'd be really, really excited to see Bolton and Sanborn close up. Yeah, I was all rigid and veiny over THAT. My fucking HEROES of SHITTY CRAP. Possibly the most EXECRABLE people to ever succeed in music and THAT's SAYING SOMETHING, DAWG.

'Course, I had to go along. Maybe I could get a clear shot at one of them. With my WEINER.

So we go over to the other crappy palacial hotel and there's the stage and all the tents and trailers backstage for these IDIOTS and their MINIONS. Who I would sign up to be in about 3 seconds.
So we go to Bolton's tent and look in and he and Sanborn are in there sitting at a table with their heads in a pile of blow the size of a Berkshire foothill. yapping a mile a minute, all magnanimous. Blah blah blah. Do i wanna drink? yes, please. Do I want some booger sugar? Only if it's to go, gentlemen. Only if you solemnly swear to each ingest a fatal amount and leave your wallets in clear sight. Anyway, I threw back my Sea Breeze and hightailed it out of there before my sensibilities could be permanently damaged. Also, with the rock stars on blow, you gotta realize the niceness lasts about as long as the last line. Then they go back to being PSYCHOTIC BITCHES.

Except for STP. They were nice. Maybe they were on something that lasts longer than 3 minutes and doesn't leave you a wrinkled, whingeing shell. Maybe something healthier like PINESOL.

Next time: I meet Snoop Dog and he won't shake my hand.

Oh, hey-

I finally remembered who Chris Robinson's wife is- Will.

God, I do love this picture.

My Dad Gordon Lightfoot For Pope

When I was about 10 or 11 Dad was working on his new song "The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald" in our living room in Alberta. Y'know, Dad and I were always really close (to this day!) and I remember that sunny afternoon like it was yesterday.
"Son," Dad said to me, "son, a man has to think about what he's going to do when he's on the Back 40. When he's past his prime, y'know? I can't travel around the world singing all my brilliant songs for the rest of my life.
"Son," Gordon (I mean Dad) said to me, "I think for me it's going to come down to one of two things. I think I'd either like to be shortstop for the Atlanta Braves or maybe Pope."
You know, Dad's still going strong. He's got to be 64 or 65 and he hasn't slowed down one bit. And you never know when he'll show up at one of my shows, acoustic guitar slung over his back, and get up on stage with me and do "If You Could Read My Mind" or "Sunny Side Of Life", so you should always try to make room in your calendar for a Bobby Lightfoot show.
Did you know Dad wrote "Me And Bobby McGee"? Guess who I'm named after?
If you want to read up on Dad you should go here. This website is cool and has a "facial hair tracker".
Gordon Lightfoot- "Me And Bobby McGee" writin', guitar-strummin' baritone folky and my own Dear Dad (even though he'll deny it I still love him) for Pope.

One last thing- it's uncanny what a dead ringer Dad is for porn legend John Holmes. It's kinda creepy.

Another Plug For This Li'l Fella.

Um, I guess I just wanted to reiterate my support for Superdog for Pope.

And I saw a thing about this movie "Alex and Emma" that had Chris Robinson's wife in it and her name was there and I made a mental note of it and then forgot it in .02 seconds.

I wonder if that happens to Chris. Chris Robinson for Pope Too.

Superdog- Butt-sniffin' leg-liftin' Pope

Why can't Superdog be Pope? Superdog rocks. Superdog can sniff an ass on another planet with one mighty whiff. Think about how liberating it would be for Catholics everywhere if Superdog was Pope.
Superdog gets his superstrength by eating cat turds from the planet Xenon where cats rule supreme. Superdog thinks that Xenon catpoop is food because there's something in cat dump that makes dogs think it's edible. I don't know what it is. If I knew, you think my mouth would water around the litterbox? No, it wouldn't. I'd have a handle on this thing.
What's that? You're not familiar with Superdog? Huh? Not my problem, Caballero. Fuckin' Read Up, gang. I mean, who the Christ knew who Dick Chaney was? Mebbe if we had just been a little more up on shit we could have avoided this nightmare. He just sort of appeared by magic. Splat. Right on the windshield of th' collective unconscious. Yeah, I wish it was just the windshield on my car, too. But nooooo, we have to sit around while this guy sucks air in through his ass and out his gills. In, out, in, out. It's fucking inexorable. It's well-nigh inexorable. Sometimes I think we conjured him out of our own nightmares.
What would happen to Dick Chaney if Superdog was Pope? Nothing good. Y'know how dogs always seem to know who's evil? Well, Jesus- fuckin' regular dogs run yelping from this dude. I've SEEN it. Happened with Kissinger, too. Creepy. Superdog? Superdog would have this cannibal off our planet in like five seconds if he was Pope. It would be, like, his second decree, right after instituting world wide Yoga so that we poor humans could finally know the taste of our own genitalia. It would be:

1. Get humans on the path of righteousness.
2. Get that god damn Dick Chaney into the vacuum where he belongs.
3. Dismantle the military industrial complex.
4. Take large squirt on Vatican steps.

If Superdog was Pope we'd have us a tight ship in no time flat.

Superdog- Butt-sniffin', leg-liftin' Pope.

See, this is where this interweb shit gets mental

I created a link that links to itself.


Someday, this will be how we defeat The Machine.

SWEEEEET!

Hey, did you notice i can do links now, just like all the cool people!!

thanx to neddie jingo for bringing me into the 21st century. Wooo hoooo!!

And the prize for funniest comment on one of my posts goes to...

...Flem Snopes for his comment on my "Trading With Baby Jeezis" game a few days ago. Truly some funny shit from th Faulkneresque Mr. S. And not only did he crack me up with the knowing thrust of his prose (mmmmmmm....), he coined the name "baby jeebus" which I have appropriated freely in my own thrusting prose. that's some funny shit right there yo.

Your prize may be collected here.

Also, an honorable mention to the parents of the cute kid whose picture I swiped randomly from their website. Keep him away from the Dark Path! 

Bobby Lightfoot- Hunky Music Biz CasualtyPope

Craggy, chiselled, determined. That's what a pope should be. The set of the jaw. The confident walk. The way a room goes silent when he walks in. Raw charisma. The dark past. The brooding vulnerability. You just don't know whether to comfort him or run from him. You just don't know. The six-pack abs. The full lips. The cheekbones. A bottle-blond broken bonanza for Catholics everywhere.

Bobby Lightfoot- Hunky Music Biz CasualtyPope.

Jest look at those ears. You know what big ears mean, dontcha??????????????????????
 

Bridget Fonda: Popelicious

Bridget Fonda as the Pope!! Can you picture it? You KNOW she'd go Commando under that cossack! Why the Good Goddamn can't we have a hot pope? That's just sexist! You know when they finally have a female Pope in about 3098 she'll be as wizened as a fossilized raisin. What's that? I'll tell you what that is- that is a failure of imagination. A failure of imagination. When are we going to wake up and make the world we want? Huh? Do you think Monsanto is going to do it for us? WalMart? Sam Walmart is going to help us get the world we want? Sam Walmart won't lay his horned little head on a pillow until YOU AND I ARE HELPING FAT HAGS FIND INCONTINENCE PANTIES IN AISLE 3,454!!!! Wakey, wakey, for fucks sake.

Oh, my aching head. Every time I think on where we're going I just get a Weltschmerz. Oy Mutterfuckning vey. We are going to Shit in a Fuckbasket, dental reader, you mark my words.

Cellphones? Cellphones? Oooohhh, Jesus wept. Boo hoo. Boo fucking hoo. "Father why hast thou forsaken me"- no fucking shit. If Jeebus of Haverhill knew where we were going to end up he woulda climbed right off the fucking cross and kicked Peter's ass. He wouldn've ripped right off of those nails and told God Inc. to go find some other bearded sucker to die for these assholes. Ladies and gentlemen, we are NOT doing right by Jeebie of Shleebus.

Here's what it's like: let me put this in very clear language that everyone can understand. Say it's that scene in Saving Ryan's Privates where Tom Hanks is dying and he tells Matt Damon, "earn this....earn this....bluuuggghhh..." Let's say Matt Damon fucking goes back to the States and ends up dead in a motel room with a bigass spike sticking outta his arm. O.K.? That's what we've done to the Nazarene with our cellphones and McDonalds and Tivo and Ass 2 Mouth and Boy Bands. That's what we've done. Feel it. Feel all of It. How's it taste to know that? Tastes like terbakky juice outt'n Yosemite Sam's mouth right inta you'rn, don't it? Don't it jest? Oh, it's bitter. Bitter.

Let the Son Of Man smile for ONCE, you idiots. Fuck SAKE.

Bridget Fonda- Popelicious.

AH HA HA HA HA HA HA! Oh, my stars and garters that's funny. I'm going to hork up my vocal chords I'm laughing so hard. Gurk. I'm going to wake up the whole neighborhood. I'm going to deviate my septum. My spleen hurts. My hiatal hernia is givin' me hell. My gums are bleeding. I'm going to give myself rectal polyps. My stomach is roiling. "Roiling". HA HA HA HA HA.

Are you guys having fun? This is O.K., huh? I'm having fun. It's a crazy ride! Just feel how she takes the corners! WOOOO HOOOOO!

Oh, that's breaking down th' Third Wall right there, huh? Boom crash boom. Blow that fuckin' horn Joshua, baby. Blow Misty for Papacita, Joshy Boy. Ol' Jericho's comin' down tonite.

 

Chris Robinson: Drug-Addled Southern RockPope

Jesus Christ, it really makes me sad that one of the Last of The Decent Rock Stars is now mostly known as whatserface's husband. That is just fucking borking. Borking!! That's awesome. Blog rule #11- when the Keyboard God gives you a new word, you must run with it. Boy, is that borking. Homework is so borking. I'm borked, mom.

Anyway, let's pretend it's some other year than the generally execrable '05 and that Chris Robinson is something other than whatserface's little drugpoodle. Chris Robinson. Boy, that guy has smoked some weed, folks. Take it from The Lightfoot, ladies and gentlemen- that stuff puts you on a higher plane. There is a cosmic journey waiting at the bottom of every bong, and the knowledge unleashed by the Bubbling Cauldron is more than some can handle. Chris Robinson can handle it, my drug-eschewing little 2005 pussy friends. Didn't you ever see the Behind The Music on The Black Crowes? This guy is funny, smart, talented and more drug-addled than Dennis Wilson when he dove to his death searching for jewelry to buy blow.

I think it's time for this kind of Pope. A new kind of Pope. A Pope who isn't afraid of a harmless little hallucination or two. A Carlos Castaneda's Don Juan kinda Pope who can retreat into a room with tinfoil on the walls and come out with some heavy-duty answers to what ails us.

Do you want a Pope who HAS seen God or one who hasn't? THINK ON THAT BEFORE YOU ANSWER. Don't just blurt out some DARE-friendly kneejerk 2005 drugs-are-bad party-line bullshit. Jesus Christ, WHERE DID MY PEOPLE GO? I'M ALL ALONE OUT HERE. ALL FUCKING ALONE. What is WRONG with you people? Next thing, fucking weed will be ILLEGAL. DUDE, WHERE'S MY COUNTRY???

Oh, my God. Do you have any idea how funny that was? I think i just pooped myself.

Chris Robinson- Drug-Addled Southern RockPope.

It's Time For A Change. 

Paris Hilton: Slutpope

How about if the Pope was a rich slut? A rich, spoiled slut who goes around banging anything that moves and just basically sucks?

I think It Could Work. It has potential. Think about it. I mean, this Pope was a pussy peacenik who was always trying to cause peace to break out like a canker on the face of the Corporate Agenda. Problem is, aside from 18 trillion hysterical Latin American housewives who still believe in th' Evil Eye, nobody really gave a toss. And that's a problem.

'Kay, so say you're a world leader and you're fixing to put half your population on the points of bayonets so Monsanto can clear another 15 bucks. What's gonna stop you from doing that? Some old geezebag who cruises around in a car with a bubble or a sleazy rich hooker looking up at you while she undoes your fly with her teeth? When was the last time some bugeyed African nutjob dictator mulched a million people whilst doing th' tonsildance with some rich white whore?

Nothing's coming to me, people. I'm not getting anything.

Paris Hilton- Polesmokin' L'il Slutpope.

Can't you see it?


 

Andy Partridge: Awesome Songwriting Pope

So here's the deal. The Pope is dead. Now they hafta do this thing where all these Cardinals and Orioles get together and read tea leaves and animal guts and choose the new Pope. Do we get a say? Fuck no. And then when they figure it out a Yellow Bellied Sapsucker comes down the Vatican steps and he says "habemus Papa", and they do this shit with white smoke or some crap. Maybe there's a human sacrifice or something. Do I know? What do I know? Huh? Last time they drew Popestraws I was playing Matchbox cars. Last time they played rock-scissors-pope I was learning how to spank it. And learn I did! I'm among the bestest!

I think we should have a say in who will be Pope. I'm going to put a few people out there and see if anybody catches on. What the fuck do I have to lose, eh? Eh?

'Kay, I think Andy Partridge from XTC would be a bitchin' Pope. He's in his 50's so he's all wise and shit, he's pretty bald so he looks all official. He's a white male so people won't be all, "aaaahhhh...ah....ahhhhh.....", and he writes a mean fuckin' pop tune.

Andy would rather eat glass than believe in any lame-ass religion, so he'd be a really impartial Pope. That could be good. I think that could be O.K. You know he's not going to be doing this uber-stupid "no birth control in the Third World" shit. Yeah, that makes a lot of fucking sense. While we're at it why don't we ban oxygen, huh? That's be about as smart. And no more fucking eating. Eating is a sin. Boy, that confession line sure is movin' fast in Ethiopa, huh, John Paul Ringo the VIII???? Genius. Genius. Thems some good Cath'licks right there, huh Hen-e-ry the VIIIth I am I am?

So whaddya guys say? Andy Partridge for Pope? My brother Neddie Jingo at byneddiejingo.blogspot.com knows him personally so I'll get him to ask next time they chat. I bet he'd be up for it. I mean, it is 2005 and he is one of the world's most brilliant songwriters so it's not like he's in much demand. You see I'm not putting Rob Thomas or Kanye West up there, since they suck so they're all busy and shit.

Andy Partridge- Awesome Songwriting Pope. 

That's When I Knew It Was Over Number 3

The first time I saw one of these. Look at the little "Registered Trade Mark" thing under "Rock". That pretty much says it all. These places suck.

They've got one in downtown San Diego where we used to play and then they stopped having live music because it "interfered with merchandising and restaurant business".

That's when I knew it was over. 

See, here's what I'm going to do.

Every Sunday night I'm going to establish a ritual of taking back everything I said the week before in The Orchestra of Sweet Regret. It'll be sort of like Confession; I'll just take back all the shit I said all week and then start from scratch and I'll be at peace with the world. The way I see it, I'll sort of be hedging my bets with baby jeebus and all that gang and also if the Homeland Security people come looking for me I can say I took it all back.

So here goes: I take back everything I said last week.

Starting with this awesome woodcut of people lining up to plant a big wet one on Satan's butthole.
---------Bobby Lightfoot.
 

coincidence MY ASS

How long was the Pope on earth, huh? Huh?


And HOW LONG WAS TH' CURSE OF THE BAMBINO, EH????? 

Why All The Time So Negative?

Here's a list of all the great records from 2005:















 

A Rumination On The Lord's Day

Hey, baby jeezis- do you really hate homos? It just sorta doesn't make sense. I mean, I could see you hating rich people or CEO's. But hating homos just seems weird. Maybe you just hate the ones that use their predilection to make money on T.V.? Is that it? Like those catty hairdresser to the stars ones that are always talking smack on those stupid VH1 shows? I could see you hating those. I kind of hate them. Not in a burning-effigies-on-their-lawn sort of way, but just sorta the way I hate everyone else on VH1. Do you hate those homos, baby jeebus?

It just doesn't make sense that you'd hate regular upstanding homos. I mean, they don't use birth control, right? You hate the birth control from what I understand. You seem to hate all kinds of stuff from the way I hear it told down here these days. You seem to be one major-league hater from what your Anointed would have us believe. You hate this, you hate that. You must be pissed all the time like me.

But see, I'm not baby jeezis. And see, I don't even hate homos. Some I really like. Some of them call me cute and are all nice to me and make me feel attractive and that's more than I can say for most women, y'know? So am I s'posed to hate people that are all nice to me? I can't muster it, baby jeezis. Am I going to hell? For not being able to hate homos?

You know what I hate, baby jeebus? I hate th' fucking people that are all on about you all the time and how you hate this and you hate that and how you disapprove of just about fucking everything. And they use you like alcohol or like drugs. They use you as a substitution for the things that really float their boats.

And you know what, baby jeezis? They're usually really, really stupid people. They're all "buh-huh-huh I hate this and I hate that...buh-huh..." and they're all "...these people suck and those people suck buh-huh-huh..."

I mean, I do that too but a)the people I hate suck (politicians, the ultra-rich, the Bush Administration and Cult Members, everyone on VH1 and that's about it) and b) I don't try to make public policy out of it. And I'm not all "buh-huh-huh..." I just fucking say it and that's that.

I don't know where I got the "buh-huh-huh..." thing but it just seems like something stupid people would say. "Buh-huh-huh..."

What's going to happen, baby jeezis? What's to become of all of us? Where's it all going baby jeezis? Do you love America more than those Godless camel jockeys over in Eye-rack? Are you on our side? Did you make the Red Sox win? Does God love analog or digital? Are you guys all having a big party for the Pope right now with hookers and blow? Do you put some in your cigarette or are you strictly an up-the-nose guy?

Are we going to be O.K., baby Jeebus? Are we? Are we going to make it? Or is it Lake-Of-Fire time? Or is it Land-o-Lakes time? Did you invent that trick with the Indian girl on the box where you fold it and make it look like her knees are her boobies? Are we going to make it? Am I going to make it, baby jeezis? Am I going to be O.K. again someday?

You don't know, do you?

Amen,
Bobby Going-To-Hell Along With All The Bhuddists Lightfoot




 

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