*scrolls intently on phone* Oh! Why hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! Why you startled me! What’s that? What are my plans this Memorial Day? Why, voyeuristically peeking at other people’s drama, of course! Sure, sure. I know some of you ambitious readers may want to go camping or for a day at the beach … Continue reading
Have you ever seen a painting of a male nude described as “an egregious demonstration of manspreading”? Me neither. Sure, if a dude is sitting on a train or a bus (preferably not nude, but it’s been known to happen), legs akimbo and junk exposed, ignoring the presence of anyone nearby as he takes up … Continue reading
I wanna tell you about a girl… Ok, I had to. How else to start a tribute to Anita Lane, the enigmatic singer and songwriter with the otherworldly energy of a haunted Victorian doll and a quaalude-soaked childlike voice to match, other than a reference to the opening line of the song “From Her To … Continue reading
Sometimes you just need a sexy lizard lady smoking a cigarette with her tiddies exposed or a disembodied donger hanging from a fishing hook. I don’t know about you, dearest Filthy Dreamers, but after a year plus of a pandemic, I can’t stomach depressing art anymore. You know, the art that seems dead set on … Continue reading
I wasn’t prepared to hear John Waters speak in tongues. I’m not sure why. What is there left to do after over fifty years of spreading the sordid slime of good bad taste around the globe than falling to your knees where your role model’s testicles were crushed before he was mowed over repeatedly with … Continue reading
If Lana Del Rey’s music had to be defined by one drive (other than driving fast), it would be the pursuit of freedom. Inextricably tied to the failed promise of America, Lana’s conception of freedom is lawless, wild, and always elusive. Continue reading
Whew! Did I just see a flying car whizz by my window? How long did we sleep? It’s almost like we’re in the future! Give me a cocktail of Soylent Green and Adrenochrome with a spritz of Chemtrail mist–we made it to the 21st century! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, dearest Filthy Dreams readers, … Continue reading
Who could have predicted that all it would take to break the recent conservative stranglehold on camp and transgression would be a simple ride to Hell on a stripper pole in thigh-high boots and powerbottoming Satan? Certainly not me. But that’s what our Lord and Savior Lil Nas X achieved with the music video for … Continue reading
Could all of Nico’s features on The Velvet Underground & Nico relate to Lana Del Rey? Not only does Nico’s narcotic robotic drone herald Lana’s own deadpan beginnings on Born to Die, but “Femme Fatale” and “All Tomorrow’s Parties” feel as if they were tailor-made to be covered by our blessed hypnotic chanteuse. Continue reading
“Well, fuck you! You wanna fuck me, don’t you? I know. I know. I don’t blame you. If I was all of you, I’d want to fuck me too. You don’t see too many of THESE in Dayton, do you, honey?” Who could deny the demented allure of our putrid and preeminent filth deity Divine? … Continue reading
