@leylabluetoo « shoulda, coulda, woulda » bad bitch teen jumps up and down like John Cassavetes' wife PLUS 'Intensely depressing pre-show gyoza at Yo Sushi in Worcester. I didn’t eat them. And I fucking eat *everything*'— David Baddiel (@Baddiel) 6 février 2020
Episode
1 begins with the distorted, over-amped, amphetamine-fueled face of
'The Killer,' as you'll never see him again; looming in a fish-eyed
demonic visage in interviews sodden with whiskey-soaked pill-pride.
Here, Palmer talks about shooting images of Jerry Lee Lewis:
"When I went to interview Jerry Lee Lewis in Las Vegas, he wasn't
performing on a stage, or even a riser, but in the entrance of the
Holiday Inn."
mrjyn produced Jerry Lee Lewis's younger sister Linda Gail Lewis
comeback
solo
record
International Affair
to great critical success
Robert
Christgau, Village Voice Rock critic extraordinaire picked
International Affair as one his top record pics of 1991 in his highly regarded,
annual Village Voice Best of Pazz and Jop list, where the Dean graded it
an extremely rare 'A' comparing her to Jeanie C. Riley and Bobby
Gentry, while crediting the eclectic selection of songs from Bob Dylan
to Gram Parsons to Nick Lowe, agonizingly selected by producer, me, a big compliment, singling that out in his review, where Linda
Gail Lewis received her first and much deserved A-, in a microdot-dense tight, hard, and burning hot one-paragraph injection of Hellfire, giving her the energy to turn
he
She
and ain't no one ever got
over Myra, or over on Myra, since. again when it was my my good fortune to seek her out to duet on a Buddy Holly tribute record with my band, Our Favorite Band
for the same label we would sign with the same founder and president of
New Rose Records in 1991 (We sadly lost our friend and reason for all
of the success Linda Gail has continued to have until I write this
update in 2020 during the COVID-19 quarantine observed around the world,
and the only thing I can think of which would be capable of stopping a
force of nature, like her brother, who has only just completed another
in a string of sold-out, blissed-out tours in a Dylan-like never-ending
tour, mostly
consisting of
fanatical Nordic rockabilly townswhere nights are cold and long, and Rockabilly is King, and where, as the Dean penned in his review now twenty years ago, 'this wild-ass before anything else' Linda Gail Lewis is definitely still 'belting them out' as the Queen of Sweden, Finland, Iceland and other countries so cold, I don't want to know.
disenchanted just one decade earlier.
for Patrick Mathe's New Rose Records, Paris FR 1991 at Doug Easley last session in his original backyard studio (it was her first time in the studio to record in 10 years, and from its success she was quickly asked to sing on Van Morrison's next record which she of course answered in the affirmative and which propelled her on an unusual, even for a Lewis, sexscapade with the most enigmatic private Rock Star in the world, only to finish a tour all over Europe, meet Van's Miss Universe girlfriend, and ultimately win a law suit against a European tabloid newspaper who Ms. Lewis sued for slander and prevailed, never receiving that apology, however. She'll live); played Buddy Holly, GBOF, retired (over 100) club, watched Jerry and Kerrie's backyard wedding from roof with National Enquirer photog, and partied till dawn at Hernandos Hideaway. Popped tabloid cherry by selling original Jerry Lee mugshot and arrest report from Elvis "assassination attempt." Front row for Fats and Friends, karate chopped by Killer, New Year's Eve, Ritz, 1987, after he told my girlfriend, "Git rid of him and we'll make love."
jumps up and down like some wild, Greek, bad bitch, meet
@_annamagnani go shopping in the open market on holiday in Sardinia, the island next
to Sicily with the best Botarga— you will know, probably @guyaroch or @wine.gini
who will have spent an entire month, although what she could be doing,
because the place is dead— but they get back and dance like this.
They then get into an awfully drunken row, curse, scurrying scurrilously all the
while, downstairs to the courtyard, pour le postprandiaux; wear
each other’s clothes to a film, pick up a sailor, have another fight; Leyla wins, make-out with the passed out
sailor, eat breakfast with a pichet full of his change, all to let us know, that if you take care of yourself and exercise you can look good at 33.
See @T @Twitter -- technically more 'twitter': a virtual mirage, or
perhaps, more closely resembling an obfuscatory 'dark shadow web'
doppelganger inadvertently sanctioned and hosted by each country's
state, city and district, where there postal service offers for rental a
dedicated addressable brick and mortar Post Office box, auto-posting
parasitical sisterling mirror proxies, archiving as initial
conglomerator / intermediary / virtual amanuensis / forward-post site; now, diversionarily subverting Tweetgiant Twitter through rakes and @T's consuming neuroses, URL hostaging, if he were witty, maybe piratical sharecropping, or perhaps, voluntary abrogation of virtual rights previously consigned by you on your initial hungry (grocery store) or carlessness (online?) contract, whereby all (not just you, baby) who upon signing invisible paperless contract in order to utilize hot site (x) (i didn't mean it that way, but now that I think about it, that works), do whatever it is that one would never normally do under such extreme anti-conducive conditions of duress, concerning the time frame for posting photographs of yourself on an extremely good hair day, before work, so must agree by a digital submission of a veritable virtual
signature for the pleasure, or pay to do the same but with money too, as a 'paying member,' enabling you to utilize or participate in the service which the site offers.
@T's more unorthodox twist on this very same business model, in the case of Twitter, whose major
distinguishment with a difference is its sitewide policy and enforced maximum limiting of length of each post (Tweet) to the
controversial maximum number of characters allowable on each Tweet,
internet experts write about his third-party social media column written his essay the respective
geoculinary history, according to region or a reaction and
response gyoza
[a]t Yo Sushi [W]orcester. And I f***ing [sic - expletive
against @instagram #instagram_kids @insta_gramprofanity
#instagramtosviolation] eat *(sic incorrect usage
asterisk)everything^(sic incorrect usage carot)]}. [sic whitespace]
Also, I noticed they’ve [have] changed the menu there [sic omitted
comma] so now there’s [ hardly any actual raw fish on rice. I said to
the waitress: “Have they changed the name to NoSushi?” Nothing. Not even
a smile.
even before the lights get hot, and before his stand-up gig begins looking for all intents and purpose looks like something, just as this is something that he found, exactly like what he found -- the kind of thing a neurotic, Jewish, British, comedian, whose level of stardom hovers somewhere between Louis CK and schlubby Jim Gaffigan, with the kids ... works clean? Him, from the States.
I have already thought of the restaurant, where the strange Frankenstein one-man stand-up act, le monstre so great, it can but rival Lou and Abbot, Jerry and Dean, and George and Gracie -- why, it would grab a little Chicken and an Egg Roll -- right there at that horrible American Chinese chain restaurant, you know, the one your parents insist is better than the real Chinese Chinese restaurant farther down the street in the strip mall--Louis CK and Jim Gaffigan's son is eating at a Chinese-American restaurant previous to his 9 PM Comedy Show at the mid-size University venue near downtown, the intimate 1,400 seat theater named after the local newspaper owner, wen up walks his server like he's just robbed TWO banks, saying, 'Hi, my name is Stephen, and I'll be your server tonight at P. F. Changs. May I start you with anything to drink?'
A 'Gyoza,' which in your
comment of +3d ago, you rhetorically ask its
cultural
authenticity and regional authority of methods utilized to keep traditional food popularly
consumed in Japan and Asian countries, methods, including, 'fried,' the variation for which Mr. Baddiel opts for and regrets, convincingly explaining why his is not the best review, then giving hell on that same, sad, fried, dough-pillow of porky goodness and soy sauce and vinegar.
Mr. Baddiel complains, his preference for dish x in
question, fried gyoza, whose picture Mr Baddiel provides for this Tweet, probably owing to the fact that he is not worried about being extradited by Her Majesty the Queen's Royal invocation to President Trump for whatever it is he might have now done to earn such a hard invitation to reject in a country where things are perhaps a little less fastidious than he may be accustomed.