Striptease for me baby
Goddammit it Cartman! I've got the sexual harrassment panda song stuck in my head. I'm going to hire Kyle's dad and sue the ass off of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.
Eva's got no school today, Jerry took the day off to go on a fishing trip with Grant and Todd, and I don't work Fridays anyway. WOOOHOOO!!!! Ain't none of us working!!!
I'm going to have a big-assed workout, and then Eva and I are going to Value Village to finalise the drag queen Hallowe'en costume, with a stop-off at SouthCentre to pick up the new NME and our Matt Good tickets!!!! Then on to Kensington to scoop up used cds at Hot Wax.
Plus the Calgary Film Festival starts today. I'd like to take in C.R.A.Z.Y. and Grizzly Man. We saw Let's Rock Again last year, Dick Rude's documentary of Joe Strummer's last tour with the Mescaleros. I still think about that film. I wish I had the chance to meet Joe Strummer. Not only is he one of my heroes for fronting what's probably the seminal band of my lifetime (The Clash, in case anybody has been living inside of a cave at the bottom of the Dead Sea for the last 30 years), but he seemed like such a warm, funny and upbeat person, while struggling to hawk his new band to brain-dead djs and to passersby. "Come see our band tonight; they're young and sexy. And they're British." My heart broke hearing that, realising he would be dead 18 months later.
I'm still pounding it with Eva that we saw this film and George didn't!!!! It's rather empowering to know that you can tell the greatest voice of Canadian pop culture in our time something he doesn't know about Joe Strummer. ***struts around the fucking room***
I've had it with that goddamned panda song. I'm going to listen to Hawksley Workman's Striptease over and over again until that damn panda is banished from my head forever.
Hawksley is a sex god