The Ever-Loving Virgin Prince
Saturday, February 07, 2004
A Quick Farewell For Now
Dearest eye-gorgers,
Returned again to read my words have you? To hear my tales or perhaps be the first on your block to catch wind of the new American national anthem? Well I must confess, writing a national anthem is not as easy as one might think. How does one write a masterful coupling of ryhme and verse to inspire strong feelings of patriotism without also instilling feelings of national superiority and belligerence? ‘Tis a tricky task indeed. I’ve spent days without food, drink, or sleep, and all I have is:
American boobs!
(guitar riff)
American boobs!
(guitar riff)
American boobs!
(guitar riff)
I’m stumped. Doesn’t the initial chorus say it all? What more needs to be said? Is that not enough to cause you to raise your right hand and salute?
I must admit, the song’s title and chorus were actually provided by none other than Mister Mystere. The prude from New England has no doubt been spending time around the likes of the Lusty Lascivian. Still, “Don’t mess with Texas” is all mine and will surely be woven into the song at some point.
I’ve been most busy to be sure. In addition to my song-writing duties, I’ve been planning a trip to Virgo 13, home of the Gerbil-People, a most liberal society. Their days are spent in loose Space-Hawaiian shirts, khakis, and neo-Hush Puppies, the epitome of comfort, their routines largely involve meditation, laboring on the arts,and engaging in loose social contact. The landscape resembles New Zealand and the culture places richness as not being an accumulation of wealth, but rather an accumulation of respect and appreciation among their fellow Gerbil-Men. As money is much more evenly distributed in their culture than ours, they spend their time trying to write the greatest novels, paint the most moving portraits, compose the best music ever known, do something, anything, and do it better than anyone has ever done it before.
I must say I envy them. They’re a hard-working people and seem to constantly be in good spirits. Needless to say, their years spent striving for perfection have produced some of the most amazing pieces of sculpture I’ve ever seen. The finest works of literature on Virgo 13 are so overwhelming that many become scripture to those who read them, all other “Good Books” pushed aside. Their pizza is finer than anything you’ll ever find in Italy, and their fusion cuisine produces combinations of flavor intensity that you might not even be able to fully comprehend. In short, as a vacation destination it is most magnificent, and thankfully, largely unknown.
I’m glad. I’m sorely in need of a vacation. My Virgin-joints are stiff and Virgin-muscles sore. I can’t wait to slip through the universe’s greatest waterslides and view the best pole-dances in the cosmos. Well I’d love to write more, but I have much paperwork to do. I’ll be back though, and with spine-tingling tales.
Be seeing you,
The Virgin Prince
Returned again to read my words have you? To hear my tales or perhaps be the first on your block to catch wind of the new American national anthem? Well I must confess, writing a national anthem is not as easy as one might think. How does one write a masterful coupling of ryhme and verse to inspire strong feelings of patriotism without also instilling feelings of national superiority and belligerence? ‘Tis a tricky task indeed. I’ve spent days without food, drink, or sleep, and all I have is:
American boobs!
(guitar riff)
American boobs!
(guitar riff)
American boobs!
(guitar riff)
I’m stumped. Doesn’t the initial chorus say it all? What more needs to be said? Is that not enough to cause you to raise your right hand and salute?
I must admit, the song’s title and chorus were actually provided by none other than Mister Mystere. The prude from New England has no doubt been spending time around the likes of the Lusty Lascivian. Still, “Don’t mess with Texas” is all mine and will surely be woven into the song at some point.
I’ve been most busy to be sure. In addition to my song-writing duties, I’ve been planning a trip to Virgo 13, home of the Gerbil-People, a most liberal society. Their days are spent in loose Space-Hawaiian shirts, khakis, and neo-Hush Puppies, the epitome of comfort, their routines largely involve meditation, laboring on the arts,and engaging in loose social contact. The landscape resembles New Zealand and the culture places richness as not being an accumulation of wealth, but rather an accumulation of respect and appreciation among their fellow Gerbil-Men. As money is much more evenly distributed in their culture than ours, they spend their time trying to write the greatest novels, paint the most moving portraits, compose the best music ever known, do something, anything, and do it better than anyone has ever done it before.
I must say I envy them. They’re a hard-working people and seem to constantly be in good spirits. Needless to say, their years spent striving for perfection have produced some of the most amazing pieces of sculpture I’ve ever seen. The finest works of literature on Virgo 13 are so overwhelming that many become scripture to those who read them, all other “Good Books” pushed aside. Their pizza is finer than anything you’ll ever find in Italy, and their fusion cuisine produces combinations of flavor intensity that you might not even be able to fully comprehend. In short, as a vacation destination it is most magnificent, and thankfully, largely unknown.
I’m glad. I’m sorely in need of a vacation. My Virgin-joints are stiff and Virgin-muscles sore. I can’t wait to slip through the universe’s greatest waterslides and view the best pole-dances in the cosmos. Well I’d love to write more, but I have much paperwork to do. I’ll be back though, and with spine-tingling tales.
The Virgin Prince
