The Cure
Last night, worlds collided in my apartment as musician Robert Smith, and his band the Cure, guested and performed on 'Jimmy Kimmell Live' on television.
There he was, the popular icon of gloominess from my misspent adolescence, still decked out in black eye-liner and ruby lipstick like a mutant cross of a Vitamin-C deficient scarecrow and a tackily painted, retired widow of the kind you'd find at the local Bingo Hall. Here once again, was fat Bob, old and bloated, waffling on about the end, unrequited love, and something about the eyes of needles abd taking me on a complete trip down Memory Lane to relive all my pent-up teen doom and gloom feelings of personal androgyny and feed old glass-is-half-full attitudes of being borderline manic depressive. Thanks, Bob!
Just to complete the whole evenings voyage back in time, I retired into my bedroom, turned off all the lights and played 'Love Cats' over and over on my ghetto blaster.
I think I may have brought on another bout of deep depression and sense of rejection. Where's my black eye-liner?
There he was, the popular icon of gloominess from my misspent adolescence, still decked out in black eye-liner and ruby lipstick like a mutant cross of a Vitamin-C deficient scarecrow and a tackily painted, retired widow of the kind you'd find at the local Bingo Hall. Here once again, was fat Bob, old and bloated, waffling on about the end, unrequited love, and something about the eyes of needles abd taking me on a complete trip down Memory Lane to relive all my pent-up teen doom and gloom feelings of personal androgyny and feed old glass-is-half-full attitudes of being borderline manic depressive. Thanks, Bob!
Just to complete the whole evenings voyage back in time, I retired into my bedroom, turned off all the lights and played 'Love Cats' over and over on my ghetto blaster.
I think I may have brought on another bout of deep depression and sense of rejection. Where's my black eye-liner?
posted by crazytigerrabbitman at
5:05 PM
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