Have you seen this?? It’s Iggy Pop posing nude for artists at the New York Academy of Art. I read a headline about it several days ago, and thought, “Yeah, OK.” All my emotion sensors are burned out by now, and this is my reaction to most “amazing” things. Then I saw the photo above… Good god! Clearly, a couple of the sensors are still functioning.
Why that pose? You know his balls are resting on the surface of that ping-pong table, or whatever it is. Somebody probably had to Mr. Clean the smudge away, after he left. The scrotal elongation must be approaching critical mass by now. The man is nearly 70 years old! Talk about your low-hanging fruit. Unless, of course, he’s had a nut-lift or a scrote-pleat, or something similar.
And I love the serious expressions on the faces of the artists. I’d be shouting in protest, and probably covering my mouth and nose with my hand. I don’t know… I just assumed he was standing on a box, naked. This “splayed like he fell off a fire escape” pose actually managed to surprise me, which isn’t an easy thing to do.
They’re going to feature the drawings at a museum in Brooklyn, and then send them out on tour? I guess I know what I’ll be getting my mom for Mother’s Day this year!
Toney sent me a link to this video, and I ended up watching it three or four times, because it’s so accurate and perfect. What in the world is going on?! The delicate flowers have, quite literally, never heard a discouraging word.
And it appears the generation after the Millennials is even worse. Somebody wrote ‘Trump 2016’ on sidewalks in chalk on the campus of Emory University recently, and the student body was plunged into crisis. I assume they had to retreat to their “safe space” and watch Spongebob, do some therapeutic coloring, and down a few juice boxes? Diversity is extremely important to these kids, until it comes to ideas and opinions. Then, not so much. Even Bill Maher is disgusted.
Every few decades those delightful Germans decide it might be a good idea to take over the entire world by force. Next time they’ll likely be able to accomplish it by simply shouting unsanctioned phrases, and leaving the guns at home. Wotta a grand gang of pusslets.
Over the weekend Toney and I had two restaurant meals that featured outrageous serving sizes. This one is an appetizer called the Nachos Pile, from JJ Bridjes, a restaurant/bar near our house. I don’t like that extra J in their name, but am willing to give it a pass. I’m not happy about it, mind you, but they do a lot of stuff right there. In any case… when they brought this thing out, heads were turning. I’m not sure why they felt the need to incorporate an elevation device, but that made it even more ludicrous.
The shit was fantastic, though. The price? $10.95. The beer is a Dogfish Head 60 Minute Ale, which were five bucks per pint. We each had two. So, it was one of those deals where I asked Toney, “Wanna go get a beer somewhere?” and it ended up costing us 40 dollars.
The other craziness was our first visit to Primanti Brothers. It’s a Pittsburgh institution, now with a location here, famous for their enormous sandwiches. I just got ham and cheese, and almost had to unlatch my jaw like a snake. They put french fries on the sandwiches, which is interesting, I guess. But that was the only questionable part of it. Next time I might ask them to hold the fries. I realize that’s probably blasphemy, but there was something slightly off about the whole affair. And I think it was the fries on the sandwich. Not so much the taste, but the texture. Or maybe the temperature? I’m not sure, but I’m going to have to tinker with it a bit.
Finally, this is a picture of me, my grandmother, and Aunt Pam. It was taken on Easter, a few years back. I feel a little weird including a photo of my sainted grandmother — one of the finest people I’ve ever known — alongside Iggy Pop and his gaping anus. But they’re adequately separated, I think.
For the record, I didn’t wear a hat this year. In fact, Easter 2016 was about as low-key as it gets. Toney worked part of the day, and I wallowed around on couches in a disgraceful manner. After she was finished with her shift, we went looking at new cars. You know, when the dealerships are closed and the mustachioed and divorced salesman aren’t around? It was fun, but dangerous. If we start doing stuff like that, it’s only a matter of time before we’re in the small room signing papers again.
How was your holiday? We spent Easter 2008 in London, I recall, and it snowed. This one was a lot less memorable. What about yours? Tell us about it — or share your thoughts about any of the other stuff above — in the comments section.
And I’m going to call it a day, my friends.
I’ll see you again soon!
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Primanti Bros. is way overrated. Their food sucks balls.
Next time in town, try Peppi’s. WAY better.
Lee Harvey Ramone says
For Easter, I ate a pepperoni roll on a flight from BWI to SLC.
Joe T. says
Those “artistes” are way too serious, probably trying to get every last one of Iggy’s pubes just right.
Primanti Bros. is great. But – you have to eat at the original place. I think you need the dirt of the Strip District to make it good.
I ate at Guy Fieri’s (yeah I know) place in Atlantic City (yeah I know) at the weekend. It was much better than I was expecting. I had 5 different styles of potato in one course, which I think is a record.
Iggy used the term “winkie”!!? At least he could have put a Mr. in front of winkie. Uggh. Nuff said.
Now I’ll talk about my mom:
Thought about digging out my picture of Mom with her white gloves on Easter but I dont know where the albums are packed. Hundred bucks says she had a cigarette in her hand. Easter was a total wash out here in the vacation capitol of SC so I slept all day.
Huh. A couple of my sensors must be functioning as well because I recoiled at the sight of Nekkid Iggy and did a mock dry-heave … which produced an actual dry-heave.
I’ll likely be sitting in a nursing home in about 15 years, my memories erased except for this one. I’ll be on the porch rocking away, cackling “Nekkid Iggy! Nekkid Iggy!”
They hire a lot of Millenial interns at my office. Why? I have no idea. A year or two ago one of them almost had a personality. Ya, I was shocked too.
For Easter this year I made pistachio crusted rack of lamb. Mmmmmmm.
Fuck you mint jelly.
We drove from Rhode Island to New York early Sunday morning. Got home and had a few cocktails (it was after 12:00). Made a big dinner (prime rib, scalloped potatoes and asparagus) and the next thing I knew I was waking up on the couch at 10:00 PM with the television at an outrageous volume. Wandered upstairs, got into bed where I floundered for about an hour and finally went back to sleep.
Oh, but I did gorge on black licorice jellybeans and chocolate truffles. Oh hell yeah!
It’s been a while since I’ve read a biography of Mr. Pop, but if memory serves he was an artist’s model back in the day.
Good memory, although I think it was early in his career and he was still navigating the world of music under his original name, Jim Pop. The “Iggy” is an affectation. But I’d be willing to bet he still has a more impressive winkie than the Primanti Brothers. Combined.
Many younger folks don’t know that Iggy is the son of snack food magnate Jiffy Pop, and inherited a sizable fortune, which he squandered.
. . . pissed it away, which is handy if you’re already sans trousers.
Lee Harvey Ramone says
My version of the truth is that in 1948 he was christened Ignatius Poperelli in Ypsilanti, Michigan.
The Qweezy Mark says
Drove from Austin to Fort Stockton, TX using mostly country roads. Had Flamin’ Hot Funyuns for dinner. Then got a scrote pleat.
I read an article a long, long time ago where Iggy claimed he avoided being drafted into military service by conjuring up an erection during a group physical of fellow draftees. So the dude ain’t shy.
Actually….Iggy thinks he is standing up. The guy on the left there is assembling his fantsy league baseball team on his laptop. The lady with the pursed lips, there in the back, is painting a letter to Jesus and asking to have this miserable human put down. The next artist is thinking to herself, “What would Bob Ross do?” The chick on the end is painting a very pretty and perfectly presented vigina in place of something no one should ever see. Like Photoshop but on canvas.
I spent Easter here in the truck with Harriette the Highway Hound. We were in Lodi, CA headed to Hermiston, OR, looking for a place to park this thing by days end. Truck stops were all full (got off the road kinda late and I knew there could be trouble). Found a place to hide for the night about 1/2 mile away…parked on the shoulder. Convince store within a quarter mile walk for a day’s end beverage and coffee in the morning upon my arising from the dead….of night.
I grew up in a little town in Tennessee next to I-40. Truckers would stop and snooze on the on/off ramps nightly. When Pop told me you guys were sleeping I imagined the insides of the truck looking like a little house. Gimme a break, I was a kid.
Easter… I ate the rest of that chicken I grilled on Friday. Also did some laundry. Worked on my taxes. Took out the garbage. Yes, it’s la vida loca around here.
Jeff, good call on the Dogfish 60. It’s one of my faves, along with Bell’s Two-Hearted.
Iggy is a hot mess. Always has been.
Root 66 says
The Emory University story is so ridiculous, it almost sounds like an article from “The Onion” or something! It never ceases to amaze me that the same people clamoring for “free speech” demand it until it’s something that they don’t agree with. Then, it somehow becomes “hate-speech.” I’m surprised they didn’t go on lock-down and bring in a busload of crisis counselors! I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I don’t think we could ever trust that generation to storm the beaches of Normandy.
Wisey McD says
“Scrote-pleat” That was funny as hell. Bravo! I put that right up there with “thick piss” That’s actually a side effect of the scrote-pleat.
If you have never read Mr. Pop’s book – I Need More – you should check it out. I don’t necessarily care for his music all that much – but that book is great. Apparently, you can buy a copy on Amazon for only 100 bucks. That is hilarious. I think I paid 5 bucks for that book.
Rode my new 650 Ninja through the local national park for a good, long break-in ride. It was great!
Chains, well I can’t break away from these chains
Can’t run around, cos I’m not free
Whoa, oh, these chains of food won’t let me be, yeah
Chains, my habit’s got me locked up in chains
And they ain’t the kind that you can see
Whoa, oh, these chains of food got a hold on me, yeah
Lee Harvey Ramone says
I always did like the Beatles’ cover of this one
old geezer says
The millenials where I work had a contest to rename the conference room. Many truly shitty options were offered and then we had to vote on it. I’m sure someone spent a week or more organizing the renaming of the conference room and that person will receive a 4 on their mid year work evaluation. So now the conference room is called “The Diversity and Inclusion Center” because the name “conference room” doesn’t sum up what goes on in there. I fight the urge to shit in the corner of empty Diversity and Inclusion Center on a weekly basis.