16 12 2009
Today history changed.
Today, Joey Santiago, from the Pixies, asked us not to refer to him ever again as ‘Joe’.
“Call me Joey” he begged the universe. The universe responded, reeling, convulsing to his hearfelt plea. A raft of people who had referred to him as the dreaded “Joe” donned hair shirts and gouged out their own eyes for their previous moniker atrocities. Me included.
I had commited this crime also. Knowing I had caused even the slightest furrow on the brow of one of the pixies had me reaching for the Bible and a zx spectrum. The only way I know how to absolve my sins.
I crawled, virtually, across the net, to beg forgiveness. I crawled for ten whole minutes, negotiating the straights of ‘From the Desk of Victor Obogu’ (he just needs to ‘rest’ the funds…jeez!) and crossing the perilous ‘BUY111 YOUR111 MEDS1111 ONLINE1111′ ravine to ask the only question that could make things right…
‘Can I refer to you as the J-dog?’ I entreated him, on the Twitter mountain
‘yes’ came the mountain-and-mohammed-type reply.
Today was a good day.
Today Joey Santiago said I could call him the J-Dog.
If you’d told me when I was 16 that in 16 years time Joey Santiago would be acquiescing to me calling him ‘the J-Dog’, I would have fucked you up. Not really. But it sounds dramatic.
In other news. Here’s a new word for you, that comes to you directly from the Sherby57/Angel interface which brings the two great worlds of surreal blogging together:
To tempt someone with music made by a plastic red and white organ that sounds like a wheezing bagpipe.
Here’s an example
You: Hey, we’ve had a lovely night. Shall we prolong it by going for coffee at mine and listening to ‘Hammond Organ moods?’
She: Don’t Bontempt me!
See if you can use ‘Bontempt’ this Xmas.