edited by ANDREW J HICKS
Liverpool, 1979: Mama Cass gets down and dirty at the Bee Gee glory hole.
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JOHNNY RODRIGUEZ
My bedroom window sucks as a glory hole. Nothing glorious about it.
ERTEL GRAY
Oh, the entire concept of a glory hole just… I don’t know if I can place that level of trust in an unseen, anonymous stranger. “Hi… Yep, first time… Anyway, here’s my peen.”
EMILY TOOPS
Agreed. I mean, you gotta be ballsy to use a glory hole.
JOHNNY RODRIGUEZ
But not too ballsy, ’cause balls wont fit thru there.
ERTEL GRAY
My luck, on even my most sexually adventurous of days, I’d wind up on the business end of a scalpel-wielding psychopath known as the Glory Hole Weenis Collector or something. Course, the upside of being a eunuch is, I could always front a Bee Gees tribute band.
JOHNNY RODRIGUEZ
Fuck yeah! I love the Bee Gees!
ERTEL GRAY
How many of them have died? The other two, right? I just heard Robin has some sort of cancer?
EMILY TOOPS
Yeah, I thought two of the three died of cancer. God hated those Brothers Gibb.
JOHNNY RODRIGUEZ
God was like, “Fuck disco!”
EMILY TOOPS
Cos Jesus and Steve Dahl were buddies.
ERTEL GRAY
Or… since most of the cool ’60s rock stars are already dead, maybe heaven’s a few decades behind on their musical trends. Maybe it’s just now turning into the mid ’70s in heaven, or hell. Either way, Frampton better watch his fucking ass.
EMILY TOOPS
Frampton Comes Alive? More like Frampton Becomes Dead! Amirite, folks?
ERTEL GRAY
“Stayin’ Alive”?! Not so fast there, guys. Amirite?
JOHNNY RODRIGUEZ
They look like skinny zombies.
EMILY TOOPS
There were no normal-sized musicians from the mid ’60s til the late ’70s. They were all beanpoles. With the exception of Mama Cass. An angel in a muumuu.
JOHNNY RODRIGUEZ
Ham sammiches will fuck up your day quick fast and in a hurry.
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