Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Rum, sodomy, and the lash.

An odd connection between two sites linked by different posts (here and here) on Unfogged.

First, #8 on Tom Waits' list of his 20 favorite albums:

Rum Sodomy and the Lash by The Pogues (Stiff) 1985
Sometimes when things are real flat, you want to hear something flat, other times you just want to project onto it, something more like.... you might want to hear the Pogues. Because they love the West. They love all those old movies. The thing about Ireland, the idea that you can get into a car and point it towards California and drive it for the next five days is like Euphoria, because in Ireland you just keep going around in circles, those tiny little roads. 'Dirty Old Town', 'The Old Main Drag'. Shane has the gift. I believe him. He knows how to tell a story. They are a roaring, stumbling band. These are the dead end kids for real. Shane's voice conveys so much. They play like soldiers on leave. The songs are epic. It's whimsical and blasphemous, seasick and sacrilegious, wear it out and then get another one.
And then, this one, posted by Susan at SueAndNotU (a Johnny Cash tribute site? apparently not):

(As I type, it occurs to me that this is not going to be so belly-achingly hilarious in the re-telling. But wait! Don't go! I have more! While out for drinks last night to celebrate Charles' birthday, we were trying, as good friends do, to think of the most disgusting drink combinations that would induce maximum turmoil in his stomach. Grand Prize goes to Tommy, who came up with a trio of three drinks entitled "Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash." Although nobody has yet been drunk or masochistic enough to try this concoction, it consists of: one shot of Rum, followed by one shot of chocolate liquer (that's right), followed by the Lash, which can only be tequila. Rum, chocolate, tequila, and undoubtedly, puke. Happy Birthday Charles!)
Carry on.

Comments:
A friend's claim to fame is that Shane McGowan threw up on her shoes in an alley in NYC in the 80's. Someone else pointed out that EVERYONE who was in an alley in NYC sometime in the 80s had Shane McGowan throw up on their shoes.

Now I want to listen to the Pogues.
 
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