Ugh! We have had it all the way up to our chinny-chin-chin with Trumpy Bear’s capitalization of what once belonged to us: SLEAZE! First there was the whole pussy grabbing–or was it pussy ass bitch–thing. Then, Stormy. Melania’s outfits. Don Jr.’s beard. Kavanaugh’s boozy meltdown. Jerry Falwell Jr.’s pictures. Religious leaders laying hands on Trump’s … Continue reading
Few cinematic sequences signify the dawn of postmodernism and all its attendant schizoid unknowability beneath its constructed surface veneer better than the final scene of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation. In that scene, the audio tapping specialist Harry, portrayed with quiet and contemplative everyman rage by the great Gene Hackman, rips his apartment up with … Continue reading
This week, The New York Times published an in-depth feature analyzing the campaign event playlists of nine of the Democratic primary candidates for the 2020 election. And, you know what, dearest Filthy Dreams playlist listeners, it was a bore! What a disappointment, as the candidates’ campaign rally playlists ranged from snoozefest to just barely acceptable! … Continue reading
“Yes folks, this isn’t any cheap X-rated movie or any 5th rate porno play, this is the show you want! Lady Divine’s cavalcade of perversions, the sleaziest show on Earth!…These assorted sluts, fags, dykes, pimps know no bounds! They have committed acts against God and nature, acts by their mere existence would make any decent … Continue reading
“To live in a country where you can take an ugly old mountain and put faces on it—faces of great Americans who did so much to make our country super great—well, that just makes me…proud to be an American!” No, this perversely patriotic phrase wasn’t uttered at one of Trump’s demented and near unintelligible Rose … Continue reading
Dear John, forgive us our sins…Dear John, forgive us our sins…Dear John…Whoa! What’s that? Oh, I’m just praying to the Father–no not Father who art in heaven, or John Wayne like Lana Del Rey in Tropico. I’m praying to our ultimate filth elder John Waters, hoping he’ll guide our way into filthiness, like a beacon … Continue reading
Dedicated to the man on East Houston Street snapping his fingers while holding a rainbow Hollister bag Pride isn’t a brand. Has commercialization ruined Gay Pride? Pride month–awareness or cash grab by major brands? These lines should feel familiar–they’ve been culled from the copious yearly editorials decrying the commercialization of Pride. Ho hum. Every Pride … Continue reading
