Mr. Reed, swears
Lou Reed, Underneath the Bottle:
oooh-ooh-ee
Son of a B.
Here’s a raise of the glass to the replacement of swears with their first letters. Stub your toe? “F.” Walk through plate glass window? “F. A. I’m very badly cut.” Surrounded by irritable brain-hungry zombies? “F. C-S. D. C. F. My delicious brains are yours to eat, gentlemen.”
From ‘Et Tu Babe’: “Joe will not say the word asshole. He says, instead, ‘A-hole.’ Similarly, he will not utter the epithet douche-bag, preferring the more delicate ‘D-bag.’ ‘Go develop E of the S, you FS-munching MG-head’ is ‘Go develop elephantiasis of the scrotum, you foreskin-munching Merv Griffin-head.'”
F, what a C-9 book. Q.
Here’s a question: I’ve read Et, Tu Babe, but no other Leyner books. Which should be the next?
a) My Cousin, My Gastro…. etc.
b) Toothprints on a Corn Dog
c) Tetherballs of Bougainville
C. In A he was still trying to be literary, and B is just a random collection of essays and stories so it doesn’t quite have the flow and heft that C does.
C it is. Once I’ve completed Dirt: The Motley Crue Story (which I can’t recommend highly enough), it will be hot tetherball action for me. Thanks, josh.
Oh! Oh! Can I borrow the Motley Crue bio?!! I’ve heard nothing but delicious things about it (although it’ll have to go some distance to beat the debauchery on display in the infamous George Jones autobiography….)
Oh yeah, I’d love to read that. Dirt is totally insane. Unfortunately, my boss lent it to me, bags, so I doubt I can hand it off to ya…
you are a sick gay man