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October 30, 2006
Bringing Art to You, For No Reason At All #3
Tom is a new man. He's freed his pet lava lamp. He's painted his toenails with Maalox. He's voted for the Purple party. First time listener, long time caller, he's thrown out his television and bought a radio. He has faith in the Father, the Son and the Pop Star. He's taking pictures of his neighbor, putting them on the wall, but the neighbors will call him a nice, normal guy. He's blown up 99 luftballons and now he can't sneeze. His mantra is "suffer small cherry stems." He's made of cheese and he's been sniffing spinich.
He's running for Progress, against Congress and he's up with people and down by law. He dances with wolves, foxtrot and tango, to Slim Whitman all night long. He was Lawrence Welk's producer. He's alternative. He's mainstream. He's supple. He played one of the Germans in the "Big Lebowski". He has a girlfriend named Suzy Q.
His tears are made of tuna fish. He knows karate, but can only say it in French. He wears stripes. Solids. He sunk your battleship. He owns Baltic avenue and Malibu, sugartits. He's old-school. He's new school. He graduated from the New School with a degree in graduating from the New School with a degree. He eats flowers and shits patience. He's a friend in need. He's a friend indeed. He's a friend of the devil. He knows the sound of one hand clapping.
Oh, yeah. And he's set his tuba on fire.
Posted by emily at October 30, 2006 10:13 PM