sweating the small stuff

Quote of the day.

“You have a very handsome face”.

This was told to me this morning whilst I was sitting at the bus stop. The speaker was this very grandfatherly lookin white haired gentleman who stopped to introduce himself as he was walking past me. What could a muthafucker do but say thank you?

Last night Michelle and I watched the “Commitments”, I’d seen it many times before but it was her first time viewing it. It came out in 1991 and dealt with the goings on of band manager Jimmy Rabbit to form the "World's Hardest Working Band," The Commitments, and bring soul music to the people of Dublin, Ireland. It’s actually a very good study in the workings of a band. Band forms up, band learns songs, older seasoned band member starts fuckin anybody in the band with an inverted pee-hole, certain member of the band gets huge ego and turns into a huge asshole, band has bigger and better gigs, and just as band starts making it, the band turns on each other like vicious dogs and break up. When it came out the movie featured a cast of unknowns except for Colin Meaney, who of course was known for his Star Trek shit. Did you know that the Commitments are still together and playing study gigs? Yeah, they’re still doing the same shit and actually have three members of the original movie cast as members. Kenneth McCluskey, who played Derek "The Meatman" Scully, Dick Massey, who played Billy "The Animal" Mooney, and Michael Aherne, who played Steven "Soul Surgeon" Clifford. I don’t know wither that’s cool or sad. Sad in the fact that your no talent having Irish ass has to milk the same shit for years just to make a living. Cause you know their doing the same shit that they were doing back when the fucking movie came out cause like it’s the fat rocker syndrome over and over again. You know where the fat rocker or rapper is still touring wearing the same outfit he “made famous” back in the day so that muthafucker’s will recognize their busted broke asses. It’ll be like MC Hammer busting out the baggy pants with the crotch hanging down past his knees, and still trying to crab walk across stage, or fat ass Vince Neil hitting the stage sporting the same gay crap he wore back in the day. Except that the shit be fitting his bloated fat ass so tight that the muthafucker needs help pissing, cause he can’t reach his arms down to grab his coke shriveled cock. Cause all I’m sayin is that if you’re afraid that muthafucker’s won’t know who you are without busting out the Kango hat or the old cracked leather getup that you wore back in the day, then maybe your fat ass doesn’t need to be on fuckin stage. Can you fuckin feel me on this Flava Fave, you old useless bastard with your clocks still hanging off your bird chest. Goddammit, unless your name is fuckin Tony Bennet or Lou Rawls or fuckin Bowie, or you’re a bonifide blues or jazzman, then you need to catch up to the times and get your shit current. Sad, fuckin sad, is all it is. You gots stinkin Van Halen gearing up new shit but what do you see? You see fuckin Sammy Hager sportin a goddamn Hawaiian shirt and shorts whilst singing I can’t go Fifty-five? What’s up with that shit is all I’m saying.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"