Nevermind the Bollocks

I don't say 'Bollocks' nearly enough. It's such a fabulous word. Bollocks. Bollocks bollocks bollocks. Car salesmen are full of bollocks. Snakes on a plane? Bollocks.

Just kidding. Snakes on a Plane was hella fun. Yes I said 'hella.' What of it?

So what's with all the bollocks? One of my netflix movies that just arrived was "Never mind the Bollocks," a sort of rockumentary on the Sex Pistols. I used to have a huge black and white poster of Sid Vicious on my bedroom wall. I thought he was the epitome of cool. So rock and roll. So punk. He's the reason I've got a leather jacket tucked away in my closet and that to this day I have a weak spot for guys who wear Docs or combat boots.

Yeah yea, heroin overdose, he couldn't play bass for shit blah blah blah. I didn't care about that. I just wanted to look that cool and listen to Johnny Rotten belt out 'God Save the Queen.'

Watching this doc I'd forgotten how freaking... freaky Johnny Rotten was. He frightened me then and I have to say he still does. I love him. Love everything he did after the Pistols. But the intense, freaky eyes... Eep!

Anyway yeah it was a nice trip down Teenage ScareHerParents Street tonight. I think I scared the kid as well when I showed her Johnny doing 'EMI.' It may frighten her more than Snakes on a Plane.

Or I could just be talking bollocks.