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I woke up in a cold sweat. I had been having the Krampus dream again. I was a naughty boy... & i must be punished, preferably spanked. Why good old Saint Nick's former sidekick was on my mind in October i wasn't sure, although it probably had something to do with me falling asleep watching Frothy The Blowman again. The stress was starting to get to me. I was in the news again. It had been a busy couple of months - scandal after scandal it seemed. First there were the pictures of me making out with Stiv Bators & Lydia Lunch at Danceteria that somehow surfaced. Then a story about me doing blow with Jim Foetus in the back of Lord Mostly Magic's "boogie" van. Then, during some crazy all-night drunk, i accidentally hit King Fantastic Outfit in the face with a crampon, pissed in a public fountain & got arrested when i told a motorcycle cop to, & i quote, "Take your Tom-of-Finland ass, jump back on your big gay bike & get the fuck out my face." All reasonable occurrences, if you ask me. But now this. Apparently i had finally crossed the line. I didn't understand. I make one offhand comment on Larry King Live about how I wouldn't fuck Tipper Gore with Adolf Eichmann's death erection & all of a sudden i'm the Antichrist. It was all too much. I was beginning to seriously second-guess my decision to run for office. |