Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Twas on the good ship...

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Welcome back to chriswasanon, BLOGSTARS!!! non blogstars, dissenters, even those who've been chucked over the side by Steve in his abiding search for perfection over at myspace. You may well have been marooned with just a cheese fixation to content you after being given the black spot - well here be TREASURE of another sort.

You ain't so great, if he ain't in YOUR top 8. You may wish to refresh yourself over the top 8 myspace deletions - don't know what myspace is??? - get outta here! "Learn more" - hah, by having a deek go here.

OK well got that? Did you know that Jonesy recruited a blogstar espionage force to do the plank walking...too. So watch your step on the deck. Don't forget before the boat leaves that Chrissie Hynde is guesting on the jukebox today!

OK. Lets steer the ship out of the haven now. Tina has sent by a large seagull another scroll of transcription that we think that you will enjoy. So without further but just to mention that this was broadcast on Indie 103.1 in the LA and OC. area and across the Internet on March 21, 2006. Is that bang up to date? We gives you the Midas Touch or Oedipus Gluten or any title you like really. We've cast off and have got a stiff South Westerley behind us and the open sea before us

Tina is at the helm.

Glutenous Maximus?

Steve: You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 103 onnnnnne. A lovely Tuesday, five after twelve bells, it’s just an unbelievable, gorgeous day today after the rain. Can’t get enough of it. It’s not quite up to my temperature liking, but it is beautiful. It’s like Hawaii with them little clouds and the clear, smogless. Fantastic. Just don’t want it to end. Just wanna tell everyone about the weather when it’s like this. Just wanna be out there, just cradled by Mother Nature. Just rocked to sleep by Mother Nature. Wunderbar, wunderbar.

I went to a stupid fashion show last night, well not…I think it’s stupid but it was my friend’s. Agent Provocateur had a fashion show. Lot of skinny models with no asses, prancing around, up and down the runway; had asses like marshmallows. Not attractive, to my mind’s eye. My third eye didn’t appreciate the skinniness of the paleness of the asslessness. And they’re so funny ‘cause their gear is kind of like…a lot of Fifties style: neutral-colored stocking with the line up the back and very Forties and Fifties – which them birds were like more, hourglasses. You know, like bubble butts, strong legs, nice calves, little waists, natural knockers. Yeaaaah. And they had these scrawny birds who got like they just got out of Auschwitz, prancing up and down with marshmallow asses. I was most disappointed. But it was ah, it was fun.

I love Joe and Serena. They’re uh, that’s who owns Agent Provocateur. I actually…Joe, when he first…Joe is Joe Corre who’s Vivienne Westwood’s son…and Malcolm’s son. Which is ironic, really ‘cause when Malcolm was messing around with Let It Rock and was turning it into Seditionaries and Sex, I was driving him around to all these tailors, getting material in the East End of London. And when Joe was starting Agent Provocateur, like twenty years later, he came to L.A. and I was driving him around looking for high-heeled shoe shops downtown and you know, people who make panties and stuff. Isn’t that bizarre?

Mr. Shovel: But, isn’t that what you normally do?

Steve: I have The Midas Touch…and I don’t get rewarded for it. I’m not doing it any more, I’m not driving anyone around, making them happen. (strums guitar)

No, it’s all good. It’s all good. I think there’s a song in there…hold on though, before I write a was such a mad house with all these mongoloids with their cameras down there fighting. I was sitting next to Cher almost, with my friend(s) Laurie and Richard and uh, it was just a nightmare. All these phony baloneys down there. Oh, I don’t know. So I got so angry I thought, “I’m gonna show them” and I went to a restaurant and I ate a loaf of bread. I showed them! I went into a coma afterwards, by the way. I got a big bowl of pea soup with some vinegar in it and a loaf of bread and butter and I was eating away my anguish. About twenty minutes later, when I was driving down the street, I looked at my stomach. It looked like I swallowed a um, one of them balls that knocked down buildings, demolition balls. It’s so…wheat is like the devil to me, I’m telling ya, I’m so allergic to it, it’s not even funny. My whole stomach was uh, a molehill. Just disgusting. It was like doing heroin, eating that loaf of bread, to me. That’s what it was like. I was so hungry as well, that didn’t help. Don’t want to get in that position again, don’t want to make a habit of that. I’ll be back to the Michelin Man again, if I carry on, eating the bread. (begins to strum his guitar again) But I think there’s a song there, don’t you think, Shovel?

Mr. Shovel: Yeah. I need people to know what you’re looking like at this moment, because you have the acoustic guitar, the harmonica holder. You’ve got this Fifties beatnik hat and horn rimmed glasses.

Steve: DARK horn rimmed glasses.

Mr. Shovel: I’m getting ready to turn you in as a communist.

Steve: Um, yeah, okay. So, is there a song there? What do you think this song is about, Mister Shovel? (sings) I’ll bet you think this song is about you don’t you, don’t you?
I’m waiting…

Mr. Shovel: Wheat.

Steve: and lingerie?

Mr. Shovel: Lingerie…communists.

Steve: Okay. (begins to play his guitar, then his harmonica)

Communists and lingerie
Lingerie and wheat

I don’t know what to say
but the wheat has it’s way with me
I don’t know what to pray about
the wheat and the communist way?

Lingerie on a tray
like my mother used to wear
With the pencil up the back
I see my mommy with the lingerie (laughs)

But I don’t know how to pray about
my mother in her lingerie
No, I’m not one to pray
about my mommy in her lingerie

My mommy was a communist
that’s what she’d say
My mum was…

(Mr. Shovel has now seized upon a voicemail recording that Mrs. Jones, mother of our beloved host, left for her son several months earlier and now he is sampling it so her voice is interspersed throughout the rest of the song)

(Mrs. Jones: “Hello, this is Mummy”)

a communist but she gave it up

(Mrs. Jones: Hello?)

that’s what she said

(Mrs. Jones: Hello, this is Mummy”)

Take it away, Mummy

(Mrs. Jones: I want to know how my little baby’s getting on. Bye!)

Steve: One more time, Mr. Shovel

(Mrs. Jones: Hello? Hello, this is Mummy. I want to know how my little baby’s getting on. Bye!)

Steve: Talk to you later, Mummy
‘cause I don’t know what to say about
my Mummy and the lingerie

(Mrs. Jones: Bye!)

Steve: Hey, hey

(Mrs. Jones: Bye!)

Steve: You know I’m not one to pray
about my mummy and her lingerie

(Mrs. Jones: Bye!)

have a nice day

Sausages, pork pies and
luncheon meat

(Mrs. Jones: This is Mummy…)

hard boiled eggs
pickled onions
That’s what she fed me

(Mrs. Jones: Hello…Bye!)

Oh, Mummy
why couldn’t you take me
to a vegan restaurant

(Mrs. Jones: Hello…Bye!)

Soy beans and Satan
is what your little boy needed (Steve laughs)

(Mrs. Jones: Hello…Bye!)

Tofu and all that
phony baloney

(Mrs. Jones: Bye!)

Joint Floratina and Chriswasanon production.

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