Peace in Our Time

On Friday night this blog was viciously attacked by a shadowy terrorist group known only as ‘Anonymous’. When the idiot barrage first began my first thought was that it was cabaret hag and B-movie star Francesca Fiori and her compatriot, international skin care super-mogul Mister Dr. Robert Young. After all it was only a week ago that this deadly duo had destroyed my new state of the art jungle lair/production facilities. Why wouldn’t they be behind this newest outrage?

But then that night I received a pigeon gram from Miss Fiori herself disavowing any connection to the cyber attack, saying that she would never stoop to such levels, that in fact her hairdresser was a gay man who had lost his right testicle to an angry macaw and her makeup artist was another gay man who had lost his left testicle to, oddly enough, a friendly macaw. It’s hard to tell the difference with a macaw. Then the pigeon said, quote, “So as you can see, I am most aware of this bizarre situation in all direction.” There you have it. A peace offer.

So I took it. I believed her. Why? I don’t know. Call it a hunch. Maybe I’m just tired of war. Maybe it was just because the pigeon had such an honest face. Who knows? So I sent the dirty dove back saying I believed her and wanted peace but with the proviso that Dr. Robert Young must not be involved in this act of terrorism. The bird returned a few hours later saying that she had cut off all association with Dr. Young and that she was a free agent once again and, quote, “Peace, yes or no? Aiiee! I can’t be all day wait for you.”

I had to believe her. This blog needs to be at Peace. There’s too many of you now to play around with war. So this evening as I lay in my hammock in a country I can’t name for security reasons but which rhymes with Bill Gates and I thought about how I was one day from home and how much nicer it would be to arrive home to a blog at peace and as I pulled my guide Ortiz closer to me I thought this is a very long sentence and that I should think about ending it fairly soon and then I thought, no, there’s more life in this sentence and I intend to find out exactly how much more and boy, it's hard to make love in a hammock. So I decided to check the blog to see what people were saying and that’s when I discovered the love bombing campaign that was going on below the posts. I was overcome with emotion and I started to tear up until I noticed a monkey watching me with contempt and I stopped. Then Ortiz slid in behind me and put his arms around my waist comfortingly and I reached down and patted him on the head. He’s a small man but a good one. I decided then and there to accept Francesca’s offer of peace. I looked back at Ortiz sleeping peacefully in the hammock and I thought, “Who the hell’s head did I just pat?” The monkey in the tree began to laugh mockingly.

So there you have it. Peace in our time. How long it will last, only Oprah knows. All we can do now is enjoy this moment or as the great gay poet Lord Compture de Cockhead writes, “Enjoy your Aids.” So true. So in honour of this historical moment I’ve written a little ditty inspired by the immortal words of Lord Cockhead. It’s called ‘Aids Faggot’. It’s message is universal and that’s why I think it will make a wonderful pop song one day.

Aids Faggot

There once was a faggot called Desu
who loved all things Desilu
He wrote a song about Julie
and not about Lucy
And now there’s a hullabaloo.

Enjoy your aids bitch
Enjoy your aids bitch!
Enjoy your aids bitch!
And your syphilis too.

He has a friend called Tom Green
Who thinks the Taliban are keen
And does barrel rolls with stoners on the net
Though he may have one ball
It’s big enough for all
He’s a faggot loving motherfucker with a pet

Enjoy your aids bitch
Enjoy your aids bitch!
Enjoy your aids bitch!
And your syphilis too.

I hope you like the poem. If it’s not to your taste then why not try listening to this song that my old band ‘Mouth Congress’ recorded back in the early nineties during a party at vocalist/producer extraordinaire Sal Surroundo’s beachfront condo. It’s called, “The New Sobriety” and is a discussion of Nancy Reagan’s ‘Just Say No ’ Campaign which was about exactly when and where Ronnie could touch her. Butch Jenkins, probably the sluttiest person I’ve ever known was staying at the place that weekend and after indulging in a little of everything and everyone, he asked if he could sit in on a session. We said sure, not having any idea what was to come. What happened next was completely improvised and never repeated and nobody else at the party even knew that we were recording. This is the first time anyone but the participants involved have ever heard this rare recording. Enjoy your aids.

Gabcast! ewe #21 - The New Sobriety

Butch Jenkins sits in with Mouth Congress and unleashes his Id on the world while Buddy Cole and the gang including Sal Surroundo and Barley Jones go with the raunchy flow.




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