As much as I love Mike Patton, his Peeping Tom guise sends constant chills down my spine. You see, a neighbor of mine named Tom once walked in on my girlfriend and I having sex. And we’re not talking about a pull-the-blankets-over-before-he-really-sees- anything walk-in; we’re talking about a-male-friend-just-saw-my- tremendously-huge-balls-slapping-and- slopping-around-like-twin-punching-bags walk-in. And though I’m not quite sure about this, I’m pretty certain he didn’t immediately back off and close the door at the site of my pruned nutz. On top of that, I’m very protective of my ballz. If you want to see them in full flush you’d better be wearing rubber gloves and a surgeon’s mask (whether you’re a member of the medical profession isn’t important, just please have the courtesy to adorn yourself like one), a 110-pound Argentine hottie, or Sawyer from Lost. So you see, the coupling of these two words — for good reason — kinda creeps me out.
Additionally, I thought the Peeping Tom album was the worst thing General Patton had done since... well, ever. It was too guest-heavy and too much like his Lovage project but not as luv-worthy. In fact, why am I writing this damn news story anyway? I could be working on my klezmer-band project or drinking my neighbor’s hot-tub water...
But hey, when you’re a fan of Patton you support him to the death! Besides, he coaxed a hearty MOTHERFUCKER from Norah Jones for the Peeping Tom album. That’s GOT to count for something, don’t it? No? Well check out these tourdates anyways. HA, didn’t think ‘anyway’ worked as a plural, did you? FACE
Snuffaloffagus balls:
Illustration: Carolina Suarez
