Thursday, August 02, 2012
I used to have a friend that would email me every time a punk icon would die. Joey Ramone, Joe Strummer, Dee Dee Ramone. I expected to hear from her again when Malcolm McClaren died because she hated him as much as I did for being a self serving asshole. Usually they were heartfelt emails, the one for Joe was important to me because that one hurt me, I can still tell you how I was in the break room at the potato factory when the man on CNN said "Punk rock legend Joe Strummer died today." and I turned to my buddy Gerald and asked if that man just said what I thought he said. I won't get an email for Tony Sly oassing, even if No Use for a Name is an important band for teenage Tom just getting into punk rock and digging the Fat records sound. I still rock out to Not Your Savior from time to time because it's a great fucking song and echoes my sentiments exactly.
I'm digressing a lot and don't know where, I'm going with this, I apologize, I'm trying to find my way to the bottom of this bottle of rum to see how many bottles this bottle can break, I haven't felt not sweaty for days because it's so hot and packing for a move into my brother's small place is making me lose my mind. I'm bummed about Tony Sly and it made me think about my friend and how I've been a bad friend and didn't hear from her when notable asshole manager died and how Vivienne Westwood is probably better off because his solo albums at the radio station were amazingly terrible. I feel bad that I haven't heard from her in eight years, she bought me a Public Image Limited record because Johnny Rotten was on the cover looking extremely dapper for Johnny Rotten and she knew I should have it because Johnny Rotten is the person I looked up to the most because he said "I always thought of myself as one damn ugly fucker"in The Filth and the Fury, which is how I feel on a daily basis. The pride with which he said it makes me smile because it's like it's not his problem, it's yours and that's how I wish I could go through my day, not being ashamed at being the ugliest person on this earth.
Every time I think about these things, I think about how I have to write a letter to Johnny Rotten before he dies because he can't possibly have much time left. I don't know if I can write him without giving him shit about butter commercials or being on a reality tv show. I don't want to write to Johnny Rotten and get a reply back calling me a miserable git because I respect that guy above just about everyone else on this planet and an angry reply from that guy isn't something I can deal with at this point. Where does one even begin to find an address for Johnny Rotten? And in that letter, do I apologize for paying actual money for a copy of The Great Rock and Roll Swindle, which really takes the piss out of him and is a terrible album, on par with Cut the Crap-era Clash?
said Tommy T. at 10:33 PM - #
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said Tommy T. at 10:33 PM - #
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