Stop me If You've Heard This One Before.
So back to this. Have a cold. At least, I’m fairly reassured it’s a cold after talking to Saas yesterday. Since she has all the same symptoms I do, including the waking in the middle of the night, we’ll accept it as a cold, and not AIDS. Unless it is the airborne variety, finally.
Realizations are unfortunate. Especially when I have one where I see a picture of me and realize I look like an overweight lesbian American history professor. Most unfortunate. I bleached some of my dishes and cups yesterday, to kill whatever lingering mildew crap was living on them and in them, let’s hope it doesn’t kill me. Now, everything faintly has the taste of cleaning solvent, but if it doesn’t kill me I’m not sure I care.
I long to retire to a French farmhouse and to type while overlooking a field of lavender or some such. I suppose I need to become a writer before that happens. Supposedly, I am a writer now and must keep in that mindset.
When I examine this high school playlist of mine on itunes, I’m struck at just how much Smiths there is on it. I guess I really was rabidly into the band. It’s interesting considering I didn’t listen to any male singers really. New Order was acceptable, but they were ultimately a dance band, and whenever Thurston sings for Sonic Youth it doesn’t really count somehow – sort of like Richard Carpenter. Somehow I don’t think Thurston would be surprised by nor mind the comparison. But Morrissey, oh Morrissey. To die to by your side, indeed. The thing is, I’m not sure he’s that pleasant. In fact, I would be rather shocked if he was pleasant. Between the open hostility to immigrants, hip hop, and all the other crap, I’m not really sure he’s exactly my cup of tea. He doesn’t seem to mind his army of latino fans, which is sort of interesting. I mean, here in LA, he has a massive, MASSIVE Latino fan base, and I’m sure some of them are the children of illegals. I guess he doesn’t mind the money. Or more to the point, it’s not an issue for him because they have not immigrated to England, just here to California. But I’ve thought he lived here for decades. Or is that Johnny Rotten? It’s difficult to keep the posturing Brits separate in your head after a while.
Realizations are unfortunate. Especially when I have one where I see a picture of me and realize I look like an overweight lesbian American history professor. Most unfortunate. I bleached some of my dishes and cups yesterday, to kill whatever lingering mildew crap was living on them and in them, let’s hope it doesn’t kill me. Now, everything faintly has the taste of cleaning solvent, but if it doesn’t kill me I’m not sure I care.
I long to retire to a French farmhouse and to type while overlooking a field of lavender or some such. I suppose I need to become a writer before that happens. Supposedly, I am a writer now and must keep in that mindset.
When I examine this high school playlist of mine on itunes, I’m struck at just how much Smiths there is on it. I guess I really was rabidly into the band. It’s interesting considering I didn’t listen to any male singers really. New Order was acceptable, but they were ultimately a dance band, and whenever Thurston sings for Sonic Youth it doesn’t really count somehow – sort of like Richard Carpenter. Somehow I don’t think Thurston would be surprised by nor mind the comparison. But Morrissey, oh Morrissey. To die to by your side, indeed. The thing is, I’m not sure he’s that pleasant. In fact, I would be rather shocked if he was pleasant. Between the open hostility to immigrants, hip hop, and all the other crap, I’m not really sure he’s exactly my cup of tea. He doesn’t seem to mind his army of latino fans, which is sort of interesting. I mean, here in LA, he has a massive, MASSIVE Latino fan base, and I’m sure some of them are the children of illegals. I guess he doesn’t mind the money. Or more to the point, it’s not an issue for him because they have not immigrated to England, just here to California. But I’ve thought he lived here for decades. Or is that Johnny Rotten? It’s difficult to keep the posturing Brits separate in your head after a while.
posted by tony m. at 8:00 AM
1 Comments:
Johnny Rotten hates immigrants so it wouldn't surprise me if he's the one you're referring to.
He recently came out of the shadows to promote some new stuff he had been working on. His first duty was to go on the British reality tv show I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here! Where, like survivor, they stick somewhat forgotten or unknown celebrities in the jungle, Survivor-style.
He lasted one episode and went bananas about how much he hates everyone and everything, and boy how he wishes it was the '70s again.
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