JUNKHEAD VS. MOTORYARD

Like everybody, I often spend private moments agonizing over all the sexy chicks I’ve failed to sleep with. It staggers the mind how often even a goblin like myself has managed to deflect and reverse sexual interest from the wonderfully bang-able, thereby snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Example? I once foiled a would-be fellator by getting punched and then crying before she’d had a chance to make good on her lewd pre-blubbering overtures. Oh, and I’ve worn creases into my forehead fretting about the model (!!) whom I blocked from fondling me in a crowded restaurant (!!!) so we could jaunt to a nearby hotel where I promptly passed out in the doorway. (Note to self: There is such thing as too many Percocets.)

Sigh. It’s times like those that I seem to inhabit a BizarroWorld where up is down, black is white, and god-ordained sexual encounters are to be squandered like a double-digit Lakers lead in Denver. It’s remarkably easy. Sometimes a mere misguided statement is enough to sour sexual preliminaries, like “Fred Durst really is misunderstood,” or “Of course I didn’t use a condom that time in The Phillipines,” or, my personal favorite, “Is this Motorhead doing a cover of a Junkyard song?”

That last one is perfect if your goal is to repel a beknockered Silver Lake hipster chick before your demented gf returns from the ladies’ room to undoubtedly karate-chop your nards. Yep, I’ve really said that! Nevermind that it was a noisy bar (the tune was barely audible) and I’m more into Junkyard than Motorhead (again, BizarroWorld) and really, it’s just that the former’s “Life Sentence” pays overt and affectionate tribute to the latter’s “Iron Fist” (and by extension every Motorhead song). Anyway, the tattoo girl left a smoke trail, but not before passing my frowning gf with a “He’s all yours!” My poor nards.

–ADF