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March 14, 2009

Richard Simmons: Late Show with David Letterman [ Exploding Steamer 2006]

Richard Simmons για τις καθυστερήσεις με το
David Letterman Show, 2006








Not impropriety nor confession; Dizzy, is an impatient Richard SIMMONS. Incandescently glam-eyed, Sisterman's ridiculous ritual, is pissing David Letterman [full tight-shot of the ear] off.

Cyclonic, percussive, antidepressant, these are essential behavioral deviations which activate and combust for Richard's Cockpit Othello; while Letterman's Dickensian abstinence, elects paying tribute-- and as most discover, it's legit.

Tics, swells, woofs; these are the spasms, the chemistry of parents grounding immature hair beaters.
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Mike Tyson: Freakout [Russ Salzberg Interview Re. Francois Botha Fight 'i'm gonna kill this motherfucker' 1999]

Mike Tyson

prior to

Francois Botha

Fight

[Saturday, January 16, 1999]


Russ Salzberg:

"Mike, uh, Francois Botha, 6-to-1 underdog. Are there any concerns on your part?"



Mike Tyson:

"Uh, I don't know anything about that, I don' know nothin' about the the numbers, I just know what I can do."


RS:

"How 'bout the..."


MT:
"I'm gonna kill this motherfucker."


RS:
"Okay... How 'bout the nineteen months off? Does that..."


MT:
"How 'bout it?"


RS:
"Does it po..."


MT:
"What about it?


RS:
"Does it pose any problem to you?"


MT:
"We'll see, I doubt it seriously."


RS:
"You take into the ring a lot of rage. Does that work for you, or does it work against you at times?"


MT:
"You know, who cares, we're in a fight anyway. Wha... What doe... W-w-wha-what does it matter?"


RS:
"Well, for example, rage against, uh, Evander Holyfield worked against you.


MT:
"Well, fuck it. It's a fight. So, whatever happens happens."


RS:
"Mike, why do you have to talk like that?"


MT:
"Well, I'm talkin' to you the way I wanna talk to you. You have a problem, turn off your station."


RS:
"You know what? I think we'll end the discussion right now."


MT:
"The we could, asshole."


RS:
"You got it. Have a nice fight Mike."


MT:
"Fuck off."


RS:
"Class act, buddy."

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Stubbs Barbeque: Austin, TX [Food Network]

Austin Texas: Stubbs BBQ -

Stubbs Barbeque
Austin, Texas
[Food Network]


at

March 13, 2009

ARABESQUE [Sandra Cretu]: IN FOR A PENNY, IN FOR A POUND

Sandra Cretu
(Born 1962-05-18)
2:55
Views: 310,435







Beginning of 1980 German europium's climax, the satin Arabesque singer's successful solo career, frankly, sounded agonizingly bloody horror up the river. But no one went broke underestimating the taste of the German public--like wideo musical crack: You can't help but be careful, because the women are hot, but you know you'll burn yourself over some ghastly, heated-Lollipop song/rock!
And this is the kind of music parents played in the house?

Lolita Disco,
Funk,
Funk-Electron,
Phil Collins,
Genesis

Sandra's Reality, too beautiful, but holy. Sandra or Arabesque? (Sandra, or overabundant, taxing Arabesque!) Electrification crams 1982.
UFO-worldly and nice, but laborious, she, the yearling, delivers on the page. "Suntanned! Loves Flyby-trucker-lines, and 'Love you whenever' -Lucifer's! 'Coon Songs'? Very popular in Europe, apparently...but dumbfounding as that seems, i've now heard Arabesque, and 'coon songs' are sounding like good breakfast music, with OJ, before journaling random mess/lyrics on top of your coke mirror for your band named, Arabesque.

Not quite, not useless in the 80s, or in overpopulated Japan.

Look! Go back; kill Arabesque: and you know what disappears when you come home in your time machine? Mustaches, custom phones, MASH!

Gimp me out a piece of Abba, Master [Sandra squints identifiably with a famous Swedish singer], so I can fly like a vulgarian songbird behind their Lear jetstream, and enjoy the foisted gimps found in a HIT-doohickey called, "Why No Answer" and its Singaporean video, and find out.

Maybe someone will see the band, hereabout, and never snicker, was Sandra's idea of a hunk. And don't forget it was International Sniffer's Decade, with shit so real you should only 0-my, 0-bad, 0-boy, ahem!

But, heaven's sanitary scale pretty much cut Sandra out of a nostalgic polyester, unprintable cloth. Her dibble-days showin' rich OGee-Liefers, that healthy slit; that was her! Man you ain't from Europe in the day! AND Sweet, rustic song, Sandra! Dimmer than a loose massage, but not the worst thing I've ever seen.

Sandra is still the great, great, Sandra: always delicious cheesecake, poetaster-manufacturer, hockshop-divine, Kookkitsch pink, sheik-shopping-proof, Posh boots and gadfly magick's again in her life. And disco! Connect.



AMBASSADOR [::]
at
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