We're going to continue on with the whole "Dusty's Lyrics" project. First I want to apologize for my lack of any literary cred or musical talent. All I really know how to do is to be weird in slightly different variations. Honestly, my shit is probably more towards MAINSTREAM in these Roman times we live in. I'm guessing the passing of WESLEY WILLIS has giving me a little push towards trying to do something creative with my downtime from work. I've never tried to create anything because it seemed like everything had been done before. Now I'm just going to make songs for my own amusement and maybe some of you SG cats will get a slight chuckle before you go check out the nudie files. Here is some more potential lyrics.
Russians really know how to kill a man
Burmese Pythons and that perfect tan
Pecan Pie and childhood delights
Throw 'em all away!
God is dead and stuff
homoerotic fuzzy handcuffs
A diseased wolverine's bathtime in Paris
Some people say music is supposed to bring joy to the listener. These kinds of lyrics bring joy to me. Baby, that's all I need. Just got done listening to some Django Reinhardt. That brings me joy as well. These are some of the projects I accomplished on my day off from work
Watched Season 3 of Mr. Show
Watched Disk 3 of SIMPSONS season one
Watched SCRATCH a documentary on the HIP HOP DJ and the turntablist culture.
Watched DEFENCE OF THE REALM. A somewhat appetizing espionage thriller with Gabriel Byrne and the lovely Greta Scacchi.
Listened to James Chance and The Contortions until I was doing Biz Markie's THE MUDFOOT all over the basement.
Didn't read any books or magazines. It's like taking chalky medicine as a toddler. I spit it up. Television and shitty public school teachers accomplished what they had set out to do with me. Oh well, here's another taste of lyrics:
Don't plant those Chrysanthimums
They'll just whither and die
You can't kill a room full of nuns
Without a camera in your eye
Just roll around in that Strawberry Shortcake quilt
You little girl
Girlin' around that black neighboorhood
Whatever scurvy didn't get
That bourbon sure as fuck did
Walking corpses surround the gullable mime
Stale Beer In The Crisper Of Time
Those people that do the whole "science" thing need to detatch my spinal cord from the brain and use me as a coat rack at a fancy French restaurant. Who writes songs like that? Why can't I be one of those guys with the scruffy hair and Salvation Army clothes writing poetry? Those guys always get the money and the girls. Stupid John Mayer. Always gotta hate a playa, these days.
ANTHONY KEIDIS IS A JERK-OFF. THE NEW ALBUM SOUNDS LIKE A FUCKING CAMPFIRE ALBUM FROM A BUNCH OF TIRED JUNKIES. DO TIRED JUNKIES KNOW HOW TO EVEN START A DECENT CAMPFIRE? MIKE PATTON RULES. GET USED TO IT.
SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
Ornette Coleman "Science Fiction"
It had been sitting in my crate for some time, unlistened. Probably because I'm a stupid bastard. This is the only free jazz album where the vocals fit right in to the mix and actually heightened the freakout. Usually, it's some crazy bitch on a bunch of uppers squealing like a banshee. I must say I am impressed by this album. No offenese to anyone out there who may be a crazy bitch who uses uppers and screams like a banshee. All I am saying is that there is a time and a place. When the saxophones start a-hollerin' cut the slasher film screaming.
Russians really know how to kill a man
Burmese Pythons and that perfect tan
Pecan Pie and childhood delights
Throw 'em all away!
God is dead and stuff
homoerotic fuzzy handcuffs
A diseased wolverine's bathtime in Paris
Some people say music is supposed to bring joy to the listener. These kinds of lyrics bring joy to me. Baby, that's all I need. Just got done listening to some Django Reinhardt. That brings me joy as well. These are some of the projects I accomplished on my day off from work
Watched Season 3 of Mr. Show
Watched Disk 3 of SIMPSONS season one
Watched SCRATCH a documentary on the HIP HOP DJ and the turntablist culture.
Watched DEFENCE OF THE REALM. A somewhat appetizing espionage thriller with Gabriel Byrne and the lovely Greta Scacchi.
Listened to James Chance and The Contortions until I was doing Biz Markie's THE MUDFOOT all over the basement.
Didn't read any books or magazines. It's like taking chalky medicine as a toddler. I spit it up. Television and shitty public school teachers accomplished what they had set out to do with me. Oh well, here's another taste of lyrics:
Don't plant those Chrysanthimums
They'll just whither and die
You can't kill a room full of nuns
Without a camera in your eye
Just roll around in that Strawberry Shortcake quilt
You little girl
Girlin' around that black neighboorhood
Whatever scurvy didn't get
That bourbon sure as fuck did
Walking corpses surround the gullable mime
Stale Beer In The Crisper Of Time
Those people that do the whole "science" thing need to detatch my spinal cord from the brain and use me as a coat rack at a fancy French restaurant. Who writes songs like that? Why can't I be one of those guys with the scruffy hair and Salvation Army clothes writing poetry? Those guys always get the money and the girls. Stupid John Mayer. Always gotta hate a playa, these days.
ANTHONY KEIDIS IS A JERK-OFF. THE NEW ALBUM SOUNDS LIKE A FUCKING CAMPFIRE ALBUM FROM A BUNCH OF TIRED JUNKIES. DO TIRED JUNKIES KNOW HOW TO EVEN START A DECENT CAMPFIRE? MIKE PATTON RULES. GET USED TO IT.
SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
Ornette Coleman "Science Fiction"
It had been sitting in my crate for some time, unlistened. Probably because I'm a stupid bastard. This is the only free jazz album where the vocals fit right in to the mix and actually heightened the freakout. Usually, it's some crazy bitch on a bunch of uppers squealing like a banshee. I must say I am impressed by this album. No offenese to anyone out there who may be a crazy bitch who uses uppers and screams like a banshee. All I am saying is that there is a time and a place. When the saxophones start a-hollerin' cut the slasher film screaming.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
As it turns out, I have a movie I bought that...just doesn't really lend itself to repeat viewings by me but does have some... curiosity interest... that I could send to you.
As jerk-offs go, Kiedis has some charm, but my ability to listen to RHCP is usually kinda limited. And with each album it's become more limited. That is, I think you're probably right.
Nothing says "absolutely NO flavor at all" quite like deep-fried bean curd. Last time I pay $5 for that crap.
first of all, let me just say this: i really really appreciate your sg name. for some reason, it gives me happy mental pictures....makes me smile. have you ever heard of a band called 'syrup?' they have a rad song that is along those same lines called 'sexy swimming pool.' i will send you the mp3 if you like, and if i can figger it out. (bit technologically challenged, despite it all).
yeah, man, i met that kurtz fella in real life this spring in chicago--we had a blast and also bonded quite a bit. he's a good human. i have a hilarious photo of him drinking a beer and my boot-clad foot up in the air next to him. random. funny.
uh...oh yeah...i *just must* comment on anthony keidis. i was just listening to 'uplift mofo party plan' the other day, and fuck if i don't have a thing for their older stuff. they definitely are way off the trail in their senesence these days, but whatever. that does not detract from some of their early brilliance. they really were one of a kind once upon a time. oh, yeah...and mike patton does rule the planet, but i bet he learned a thing or two from the first chili peppers album. hmm?
anyhoo, good day, young fella.