Hey! Sweet! Time for some end-of-year top ten lists yo!

Top ten reasons why you can't go to work on th' 26th:

10. My cawk fell off.
9. My spleen burst.
8. I converted and it's the Muslim Holy Day of Ramada.
7. I'm feeling "approach-avoidance"-y.
6. Buried memories of priest abuse surfaced. And I've been out of the clergy for years.
5. My ass sealed shut.
4. I'm covered with Santa smell. Ha ha ha ha.
3. Someone gave me a "Get Out Of Work Free" card. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
2. Carolers started doing that fucking silver bell song and I scattered them with my Mac 10 and now I'm getting all this fucking static.

And the number one why you can't go to work on th' 26th, um, thing:

1. I can't be exploited for another three seconds without crying. Crying. For the lost love. For the green fields of home. For the little children. For my squandered youth. For Jesus and Karen Carpenter and for what happened to Karl Marx.


Karl Marx! Can you imagine being Karl Marx? THAT fucking guy!! Woah!!!

If I started now maybe I could weep enough tears by 2040.

Why th' fuck did I put on that god damn U2? Now I feel like sobbing and moving mountains. And euthanizing strays. Like it says in the Good Book.

"The Beatles Recording Sessions".

I know I've asked this before but WHERE THE FUCK IS IT ALL GOING TO WIND UP?

WE'LL NEVER KNOW! THAT'S THE BITCH OF IT! ONE DAY YOUR KNOWLEDGE WILL GO ZZZZPT LIKE A ANT UNDER A GOD DINGED MAGNIFYING GLASSSSSS. I'M HAVING A HARD TIME WITH THAT.

A HARD GERD DERNED TIME.

Jesus Christ. I will sit and write anything nowadays to not have to confront my muse. I always do when I'm close to something. You know it's going to be all-consuming and maybe will or won't be what you wanted and might be an execreble execresence of excremental existentialism.

Fuck it here I go. Publish cerk-smerkin' post.

Bobby Lightfoot's God Damn Advice For Modern Lovers: When Not To Hypenate

That big day coming up? Boy howdy! I know you womenfolk like to hyphenate those last names but I hate to tell you there are some times when it ain't a god damn good career plan! Thank heavens you have MY sensitive and new age ass to set you straight.

Here's some examples when you don't want to hyphenate yer last god damn name with hubby's:

If your name is Janet Dingle and his name is Bill Berry.

If your name is Helga Koch and his name is Wilhelm Sucher.

If your name is Suzy Seaman and his his name is Jack Luvver.

Todd came up with that one. Good on yer, mate. That right there is some golden fucking wit.

If your name is Jackie Pew and his name is Frank Denda. Ha ha.

Don't marry Yo Yo Ma if your name is Cynthia Smeg.

Like, say, if your name is Tami Gofuckyourself and his name is Joe Pieceoffuckingshit. That'd be a bad move, huh?

Next time: something even stupider!

A Bobby Lightfoot Christmas: Greatest Hits Fuckin' Number 12

Look, I can't be bothered to copy and paste this fucking drivel. Here 'tis. Merry polesmoking Christmas. Hope you get whatever plastic shit you want.



http://bobbylightfoot.blogspot.com/2005/05/santa-claus-study-in-evil.html

Wherein I Apply My Not Inconsiderable Intellect To Some Thorny Issues

Boy! The economy! Who can really say what the end result will be when we create a boom with deficit spending. Hmmmm. Call me a savant but I sense we will see an increase in interest rates today when th' Fed does its thing. This will be interesting in the short term because

Never mind. Fuck the economy. The fucking economy can smoke pole.

All right, how about the Iraqi elections? Are we fomenting a new feudalism with our attempts to guide a democracy in Iraq? Will the mullahs and th' Shia

Never mind. Fuck the Iraqi elections. The fucking Iraqi elections can smoke pole.

Saaaay.... What about the future of stem cell research? Is it all going to go offshore because Americans think Santa said it's bad and immoral? It will be interesting to see where this stem cell debate will

Never mind. Fuck stem cell research. Fucking stem cell research can smoke pole.

Gee whiz- things are crazy with the widening gap between the working class and the rich in this country! The disparity here is exceeded only by Mexico and Burundi! What will happen? Where's it all going?

Never mind. Fuck the income gap. The fucking income gap can smoke pole.

I do hope I've shed light on some of the trickier issues that we face at this time.

TELL me this isn't what Lennon would look like now.

I found an ancient MAD Magazine from 1964 in a drawer in a motel in Minnesota. It had a bunch of yux about those kooky new Beatles.

In a "where are they now?" spoof, they had Lennon killed by fans in NYC. I shit you not.

What would John be doing now? Would he be a judge on American Idol or would have have a reality show or some crap? "Life With The Lennons"? Politix maybe? "Free As A Bird" would've sounded better.

I wish he was still around but when I was 15 and he biffed it I figured one less hippy. Remind me of THAT next time I complain about kids today being idiots. I was into th' Pistols. Forgive me. We were all 15 once. I was maybe a little fifteenier.

I didn't get it until later. The little thing about th' Pistols owing him everything. Whenever the bands I loved started running out of ideas they always started sounding more and more like him. The source.


One thing I CAN tell you: he'd be fucking PISSED. GUY WOULD BE GRADE-A BULLSHIT OVER WHAT'S GOING ON NOW.

Think how great the fucking Anthology would have been. Jesus. If the CIA hadn't fucking taken Lennon out.

Hey Look I Found This Awesome Picture!

Hey look I found this awesome picture of Allah!



















Hey look I found this awesome picture of Jezis!












Hey look I found this awesome picture of God!
















Hey look I found this awesome picture of Mohammed!




















Hey look I found this awesome picture of Heaven!















Hey look I found this awesome picture of Chivas! I mean Shiva!

The Soulfinger Diaries #2: Foxwoods Resort Casino, 12.10.05

God damn Lula! That sister is going to keep me th' hell on my toes. This lady puts out a verse to "Hey Bartender" and then looks at you when it's your turn and damn it, you better go 125%, man. Can you imagine? Phoning it in is NOT an option. And all her keys fit me like a glove; we have the same damn range which basically makes her a tenor/ baritone. Jesus. A LOUD tenor. I'm usually above her on a harmony. And she don't truck with no vibrato crap. She comes down on a long note and it's straight and unaffected like a ship's horn. Quite a contrast to my Faces/Rod Stewart thing. Drummer said I sounded like a cross between...I forget. Delbert McClinton was in there so that's fine. Delbert god damn McClinton. That's better than the usual comparisons I field: Lenny Kravitz, Joe Cocker, Bryan Adams. Oh- it was Bryan Adams. A cross between Delbert and Bryan. Hmm. Delbert's got a little warble going.

The whole race thing is interesting. I mean, I'm obviously a total wegro. A black wannabe of the highest order. I'm like one of those idiot white hip hop guys but I'm about 35 years behind the times. I'm back in '71 with the space outfits and the bigass felt hats. That's probably why a lot of people who come at my stuff from the Pet Sounds/XTC end of things don't get their boats floated.

Note to self: deploy "Good God!"s with extreme caution. No sense in being Terence Trent D'Whitey. As good as it feels.