Unite and take over

I've blogged about "Shoplifters of the World" before. In particular I've written about how the lyrics are obvious allusions to Morrissey having sex with men.

So the other day Big Daddy and I were on our way to work (Mama got a new job about a year ago and it's very good) and Shoplifters of the World came on. Now, for my money this is PEAK GAY SPM, but Big Daddy was all, "I'm sure it was originally shirt lifters, this."

What?

So Big Daddy explained the term "shirt lifter" (he's old AF) and that it's a slang term for gay men because, as he says, "you lift the shirt."

Full disclosure: it took me a little bit to realize he meant lifting someone's shirt tail as you hit that from behind because I grew up loving hair metal and shirt lifting is something you do to show Tommy Lee your titties. Or Nikki Sixx. Probably not Mick Mars, though, but it takes all kinds.

Anyway, if you assume SPM originally titled the song "shirt lifters" then the song is SO RUDE.

This could be like how if you replace all the instances of "wand" in the Harry Potter series with "wang" it's like WELL rude but that's just something some pervert discovered and unlikely to be JK Rowling's actual meaning.

Digression: I find The Lord of the Rings extremely homoerotic. There are so many places in the book (and the movies, holy shit) where I just want them to get a room.

Big Daddy has been reading me Fellowship as a bedtime story (it helps my anxiety) and there's a line in the beginning when Gandalf is bringing all the fireworks to Bag End that's something like "the old man started to unload at Bilbo's front door" and I was like "more like Bilbo's back door."

We laughed so hard. I would personally enjoy it if they banged. Also Sean Bean and Aragon.

But here's the obvious and very rude lyric:

A heartless hand on my shoulder
A push - and it's over

Guys.

Ok, so I'm considering going to Mexrissey if I haven't missed it already. I want to!  But it means leaving the house. Ew.

Have I been over-exposed to Morrissey or what?

I make no secret of how much I love The Smiths (it's a lot) and I have pretty much loved them passionately and with an iron grip of affection ever since I first heard them.  Sure, I had about five minutes of not liking them because I had to be different until I realized that, actually, holy shit, people are on to something and this band are amazing.

I mean, Morrissey is basically the human equivalent of a dumpster fire, which is kind of why I started writing this blog.  It's all part disgust but mostly exasperated affection.  I even listened to what must have been a fucking ten year version of 'Barbarism Begins at Home' (my least-disliked Smiths song - it's probably that fucking slap bass which I hate at all times) because I couldn't bring myself to stop a Smiths song early.  I mean, honestly.

I've even considered having 'There is a Light and it Never Goes Out' played at my funeral which is a thing I've wanted (along with Ignition (Remix), natch) ever since Big Daddy went to a funeral for a friend of his and the lyrics were included in the funeral program and it was sung by all the mourners as the final part of her funeral.  I just love that and it sounds like it was amazing (Big Daddy assures me it was - I was in Hawai'i at the time.  Go me!) so I totally want the same.  I've also told him I want a Vodou funeral but he won't entertain the idea I'll predecease him.  AT LEAST I'VE WRITTEN IT ON MY BLOG!

So the whole point of this ramble is this: I have been listening to The Smiths for over an hour, dicking around on Bejeweled Blitz and thinking about how much my arthritis is hurting me and how I have super bad heartburn from eating an entire tub of Flamin' Hot Cheetos (worth it) and how maybe I should put some fleece sweatpants on so I can warm up my goddamn hip joint when the YouTube autoplayer throws up 'Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me' and my first thought was 'maybe they would if you weren't such an utter ballbag.'

Normally I have more affection for SPM's fucking over-wrought emo-ness, which is deeply ironic because I am hugely uncomfortable with affection or strong emotion in real life.  BUT NOT TODAY.

Maybe it's because of the heartburn or the arthritis or the fact that maybe I should stop being such a fucking tightwad and turn the heat on but, God help me, I can't help but wonder if Morrissey brought it on himself.

In SPM-ish news I have realized (at nearly 36!) my entire adult aesthetic comes from this music video:






I mean, David Fincher fucking nailed it but! I also think this is one of Madonna's best songs. So, nice one MC!

But of course, I wear black on the outside 'cause black is how I feel on the inside OF COURSE.

Steve 'The Whinger' Morrissey

I extra love this because I fucking love darts.

Morrissey looks like he's about to drop the hottest BDO World Darts Championship semi final run of 2k15. pic.twitter.com/lfoFucpoOZ

— Eamo (@EamoV1) August 19, 2015

To die by your bulbous salutation is such a heavenly way to die

Today I've been listening to 'There is a Light That Never Goes Out' on repeat and a little bit of Kanye West and I can't figure out how a dude that wrote this song could possibly think 'bulbous salutation' was a good euphemism for penis. 

Come on, dude.

So Our Moz wrote a novel

I'VE GOT YOUR BULBOUS SALUTATION RIGHT HERE!


All I can think is that Morrissey is so bad at sex.  Ew.

I feel like I ought to read it but, quite frankly, I don't have that kind of time.


Here are my favorite tweets about it.

I went to the Penguin website, and the only blurb for Morrissey's novel is by...Morrissey. pic.twitter.com/XyjQk19yVI

— Saladin Ahmed (@saladinahmed) September 23, 2015

and one from my girl, Hillbilly Rachel.

Dear Me at 15: In the 21st c., the most effective form of birth control will be to read a sex scene written by Morrissey. #BulbousSalutation

— Rachel E. Pollock (@labricoleuse) September 28, 2015

I wish I knew how to quit you!

Actually, quitting Morrissey isn't really that difficult because I've not written a word since June.  Things have been pretty awful Chez Shut Up Morrissey so I've lost my oomph, as it were.

As Aerosmith said, 'I guess my get up and go must have got up and went.'

So in lieu of any real content a comic that, while not as funny as This Charming Charlie, still made me chuckle.  This comic imagines what life would be like if Morrissey had an office job.

My God, can you imagine SPM in a real fucking job?  Good Christ.  I'll be laughing about this all day!

The world never stops turning, Badger.

I never thought I'd blog about David Icke again.  Will wonders never cease?

Today I learned he's harnessed the power of social media to reach the masses. Bless! He's slotted right into the space made by anti-vaccine and Big Pharma paranoia.

I wonder if people know about his lizard people hypothesis.