"Matinee" outtakes #3: Of Course If I Were Ever To Cover A Song It Would Be McCartney.

And it would have to be off band on the run. And it would have to be one of those lost gems that people hear and it all comes flooding back. And I'd want to do it with a Pet Sounds-era Wrecking Crew intro and lots of swirling organ and I'd make it a bossa nova with a piano solo. And plenty of bitchin' harmonies. The ultimate Arch Marble rainy day project.

This was tracked in '03 as part of a demo for small trio gigs.

Might as well acknowledge where I steal it all from anyway.


The Guy's Like The Jim Morrison Of Assholes!

Oh, wait. Jim Morrison is already th' Jim Morrison of Assholes.

Cheney! Sweet fucking Christ! What's next with this guy! Don't tell me- he stabs Lynn to death in th' Chelsea Hotel! No-no-he...he fucking...he drives a Cadillac into Bill Frist's swimming pool! Yes!

And then Dribbleya...um, he moves into that fucking place in LA where Belushi ate shit and gorges himself on brown heroin and underage Thai hookers of all genders. And that fucking pimple Mclellan starts torching the podium at press briefings. And what's with Laura and that everpresent 2/3 empty bottle o' Southern Comfort?

Actually, I take it back.

These guys are getting cooler all the time.

All I Want To Know Is

If I win th' Koufaxy do I get it smoked?


And on top of it all, a new song! Called "New Song"

Man, am I glad to have THIS albatross off'n my god damn neck! Been trying to get this fucker done for two months!

It's psychedelic! It's Byzantine! It's...it's...a modern electron romance!

"New Song"

I swear she reaches me
On some internal frequency
And modulated speaks to me of love...

And when I'm all alone
The static on the telephone
The headlights and the rain
Become enough...

How do you write of things you cannot touch?
Cannot name?
How do you push the veil away?

Surrounded every day
By microchips and microwaves
She sweeps across the ether to my heart...

No science could unfold
The braided bond of soul-to-soul
Or treatise hide the secret of her art...

I think it's time to sing a new song...
New song...
How do you do, my nightingale?

Woah!! I'm getting trails!!

I Have It On Excellent Authority

That Cheney was just tired of the old tease rebuffing his advances.

The Dim View That I Take.

Look, let's face it- I'm a rock star. I look like a rock star, I act like a rock star. I smell like a rock star. I make love to the camera, you know? I fucking radiate, man. I might be sitting down to breakfast in a cigarette-burned beige kimono with eye snot- I'm still the guy. I make love to that breakfast. I just have that sort of matinee idol quality.

When I walk into a room is when th' party starts, you know? I make love to that room, man. If all eyes aren't on me, well, somebody just skipped their Ritalin, you know? It's exhausting sometimes. Really. The preposterous come-ons. The stammering. The obsequiousness.

And I gotta say, man- I gotta say; from up here where I sit, where I sit on Elvis' right side up here in Charisma Land, I gotta say it's a dim view I take. A dim fucking view indeed. It would be fair to say that the view I take is markedly dim. There is a dimness to the view I take. A pronounced degree of dimness. In the taken view that is mine.

If a graph could be charted, the X axis of which would be degree-of-rock-starness and the Y of which would be dimness of view taken, well, I would be the unforeseen variable that would skew the results significantly by achieving the highest degree in each.

And it is this dim view that contributes to a grim, serious caste to my telegenic personality. It accounts for an artistic tension, a frisson of alienation that makes love to an audience whilst simultaneously challenging it, taunting it.

All of which brings us to this: the dim view that I take.

Let's all see if we can just try to fucking pull it together a little, O.K.? It's a new week. Let's just all take a deep breath and see if we can do that.


Holy Fucking Christ! It's Bobby Lightfoot's Cosmo Articles #3!!


That's right, Cosmo Girl! How you gonna land that Special Someone now ya done reeled him in? A fella needs variety! Surprise! Passion!

To this end I give you:

Ten Things To Do In Th' Sack What He's Never Seen Before!

It's Valentine's, little misses! You gotta toe the polesmokin' line! Here's ten little love tricks he's never seen before! Blow his mind!

1. Shove his dick in your ear.
2. Shove your ear up his ass.
3. Suck his pancreas.
4. Shove your ass in his ear.
5. Suck his eyeballs.
6. Surprise him with the ancient oriental "Q-tip Up The Urethra" move.
7. Yank his armpit hair out and shove it in your ear.
8. Yank your ear off, wrap it in armpit hair and RAM it up his ass.
9. Shove a Q-tip up his urethra, wrap an ear around it, take out your pancreas and RAM it up his ass.
10. Shove his ass into his armpit, jam a Q-Tip up his ass, tie his urethra around his armpit hair with his pancreas, shove his eyeball into his ear and drip straight hydrochloric acid on his dick.

And THAT, my friends, is some uptown fucking humor.

Bobby Lightfoot's Cosmo Articles #2: How To Tell Your Guy Isn't Into You Anymore

This rocks! So much knowledge! So much self-help! Check it out: "How To Tell Your Guy Isn't Into You Anymore"!!

1. You nuzzle up close to your handsome hunk and he tells you to "fuck off".
2. You touch him lightly and he blows chunks on your shoes.
3. You're out on a romantic stroll. He points to some guy and says, "I wouldn't fuck you with HIS dick".
4. He cleans his armpits with your pillowcase.
5. You find pictures of yourself on the bottoms of his shoes.
7. He starts talking with a lisp.
8. You wave from the sidewalk and he tries to run you over.
9. He insists on calling you "saddle pal" in bed.
10. When you make romantic overtures he starts sticking needles in his eyes.

Bobby Lightfoot's Cosmo Articles #1: How To Blow Your Guy's Mind In Bed

What the fuck is stupider than Cosmopolitan magazine? In the universe? Maybe VH1. Just maybe.

So, I've been thinking about maybe submitting an article or two to see if I can make a li'l extra dosh on the side! Tell me what you think! Here we fucking go!

By Bobby Lightfoot

Ladies! You know you live for gettin' your stupid date all worked up between th' sheets! It's all you think about! That's right! So here's ten handy tips! Stupid!

1. Take off your clothes.
2. Wear a diaper.
3. Show him one tit and tell him he doesn't get to see the other until the garage is painted.
4. Pretend you're a guy.
5. Let him have sex with you.
6. Keep calling him "Donkey Boy".
7. When he's on top keep saying, "Gray...I think I'll paint the ceiling...gray..."
8. Act like you don't find him worthy of nothing but disdain.
9. Take a pointer from those hot Hasidim: Do it through a sheet.
10. Pretend you like it.

Sweet! I'm going to do another!