Review Haiku
by Your Diva, Robin Pastorio-Newman
It's Mid-July. You're marinating yourself in the Shore brine of tropical fruit-scented tan inhibitors or tropical fruit-scented tan enhancers. Talk, unlike Retin-A lotion, is cheap, and at this very moment, Your Diva, Your Darling, Your One True Love reclines poolside with charming, aggressive Jersey rock stars, denying under oath she ever frolicked with a rhythm section.
Since the Doctor is OUT, like the sun and those singing bellybutton commercials, let's dispense with our usual tete a tete and jeté down the road of shows and bands and drunks, oh my!
Falling Out
Pretty boy guitar
Band with catchy tunes - too bad
They have no talent.
Steel Toe Solution
Boot boys convulsing
Betty Page girls smile, smoke, drink
Oi! Oi! Oi! Good time.
Demolition Dollrods
Three crazy people,
Quirky syncopated blues -
So nearly naked!
We Kick Ass
Fast, hard, loud, funny.
Many Bud cans sacrificed.
Protect your daughters!
Wahoo Moment
If you die and go
To Heaven, the voice singing
To you will be Todd's.
Mars Needs Women
Your ship has come in:
Mars may come to your town - buy
Yourself a ticket.
Though tempting, one cannot with a clear conscience wax rhapsodic about one's bestest most favoritest glam art band while occasionally putting in cameo appearances. Last Friday night, Alice B. Talkless stunned unsuspecting Opie & Anthony fans - just the sort of radio Wednesday altrok columns deride - with a costumed, carefully stage managed set, including audience members in tutus - and out of them. Your Diva loves this band with her whole black heart, and makes no apologies for doing the mashed potato wherever lunkheads repeatedly ask why a bar sells no Coors products. So, no review haiku, extolling the virtues of Alice's wit and Amy's voice and Kevin's grinding guitar work and the new drummer's startling composure in the face of - well - derriere du jour. That wouldn't be fair, would it?
Until next week, when cabana boys review and rewrite bikini lines. Kiss, kiss!
©2001 Robin Pastorio-Newman