"More Smiths than Loverboy"
Alright, so I don't have jerry curls and a leather jacket. And when I try to look mean I just end up resembling a pouting puppy. My hips might be girlish, my eyelashes long enough to keep my eye glasses clean and when I run my wrists tend to swing limply at roughly rib level. I may wrap my book dust jackets in clear plastic to preserve them and, I'll admit it, my pinky sticks out when I sip tea. Sure, violence might make me pee and my toolbox is full of tools still in their original packaging. But... but...
What was my point again?
Today's title is a direct quote taken last night from someone I've been having a pleasant time getting to know lately. A documentary on 1930s sexploitation films was put off to another day in exchange for story telling and beer. I did my best to project a Loverboy mystique, but apparently came across as a celibate gladioli tosser with a lispy way of speaking.
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Coincidentally, I think it's the new Uncut that has a huge feature on the making of The Queen Is Dead, 20 years ago. Maybe not so coincidentally, that might be the time when Pizzer Corner Diarist might have learned the meaning of "sissy boy". Just a thought... Morrissey rules!
sissyboys are about to take over the world.
We'll overthrow the Government with indian burns and defeat our enemies through slapsies.
Don't forget to pack a lunch.
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