The Silver Hippopotamus

Kitschy Barnacles & The Pup That Bled

2009-10-05T13:24:00.007-04:00

Five Unimportant Albeit Not Boring Lowdowns...

My zany & economically impractical magnet collection is so out-of-control (and low to the ground) that my cats have recently begun swiping them off the side of my metal filing cabinet for no good reason. Seriously, I found a retro, novelty Coney Island keepsake in the kitty-litter the other day and I was TORKED. Good thing those trouble-makers can't reach the Pillsbury dough couple or the plastic octopus. Paws off, moggies!

Oh. No. My dog bled all over my apartment last week. The blood was coming out of his weenstick. I threw him in the tub and called the emergency Vet hotline. The only reason this became a photograph is because I sensed that the Vet thought I was exaggerating at the sentence: THERE'S A DISCONCERTING EYEFUL OF BLOOD GUSHING OUT OF MY DOG'S PENIS. Looks like a deleted scene from The Shining, right? At any rate, poor little Fritz ended up getting neutered and had to wear a cone-of-shame for an entire week. It suffices to say that the freakish cascade of puppy gore in my apartment is now under control.

I recently read the book CARRIE by Stephen King and will NEVER be the same. Holding this book is like holding the hand of a sad friend who also just so happens to be a she-devil and a corpse. I'm UTTERLY OBSESSED with every single one of these 181 pages. Having been a fan of the movie for years, I never saw this coming. The book is FREAKISHLY BETTER than the film and actually goes into a candidly chilling territory that can't be explained. A bloody prom bouquet+telekinesis=perfect, horrifying poetry.

A new reason to go to Harlem: DINOSAUR BBQ. Why? Because the ribs are shellacked in grizzly bear blood and the timber-crammed bathrooms are dripping in wickedly oafish graffiti. A bona fide, potty-mouthed lumberjack's paradise. Imagine Davy Crockett arm-wrestling Big Foot on the coffin of Lenny Bruce. Enough said.

I don't know what puts a bigger kick in the seat of my new blue cords, seeing Weezer on Halloween at the Hammerstein Ballroom, or hearing *this song* performed live. Finally I'm going to have fun on Halloween instead of being scolded by the Jehovah's Witnesses in my apartment building who shun my jack-o-lanterns and frown at my candy corn. Oh, do they ever frown! Maybe if my dog starts hemorrhaging from the weenstick again he'll burst into flames and pull a Carrie on my sinless, pumpkin-hating neighbors. Now that's what I call Raditude.

XO
RM

DURAN DURAN (Totally Forever)

2009-10-04T18:32:00.013-04:00

Lyric by Robert Maddock

From Clash of the Titans:

THETIS: What a dangerous precedent. What if there are more heroes like him? What if courage and imagination became everyday mortal qualities? What will become of us?
ZEUS: We would no longer be needed. But, for the moment, there is sufficient cowardice, sloth and mendacity down there on Earth to last forever...

(verse one)
1985 and I’m a twelve-year-old disaster.
Hungry Like the Wolf is playing on my ghetto blaster.
Ma says I’m addicted to the rubbish on the TV.
I wish I was famous, but I guess I’ll have to be me.

(chorus 1)
Hold on to your Pepsi can.
Everybody loves Duran Duran.
Give it up for Aquaman.
Totally Forever.

Bust a move and groove along.
Everybody’s playing Donkey Kong.
Punky Brewster’s going strong.
Totally Forever

(verse two)
1986 and all my thoughts are getting deeper.
Check out all the doodles I drew on my Trapper Keeper.
Ma says I’m as lazy as a maraschino cherry.
All I want for Christmas is a rhyming dictionary.

(chorus 2)
Cowabunga. Strike a pose.
Everybody’s wearing neon clothes.
Gag me with a garden hose.
Totally Forever.

Free the Goonies from their cares.
Everybody’s chewing Gummi Bears.
Pee-wee Herman’s in my prayers.
Totally Forever.

(bridge)
What is normal? What is proper?
I can’t really say I care.
All I know is Cyndi Lauper
Puts a smile in the air.

Baby, if my hair was spiky
I’d be bad as Johnny Depp.
I’ve got Pop Rocks in my psyche.
Maybe you should watch your step.

(verse three)
1989 and I’m as fearsome as a Troll doll.
When I go to Mervyn’s I wish I could buy the whole mall.
Ma says I should go out on a date with Tammy Hobbins.
I say I’m too busy ‘cos I work at Baskin Robbins.

(repeat choruses)

Totally Forever...
Totally Forever...

Robert M.

All THAT I'M NOT LETTING GO OF

2009-04-21T16:45:00.005-04:00

Part One

RM

SMITHEREENS!!

2009-04-19T21:39:00.006-04:00

Lyric by Robert Maddock

Smithereens...

(verse one)
I was making deviled eggs when the meteor fell.
It took a rock from heaven to destroy my hell.
And the walls are shaking at the crash of dawn
And I’m standing in the kitchen, but the kitchen is gone.

(verse two)
There’s a hole in the ceiling with a light shining through
And the sky is revealing a triumphant view
And the screws are loosening inside my head
And I’m jumping into orbit off the edge of my bed.

(chorus)
I’m through the roof.
I’m out the door.
I’m not a prisoner anymore.
I’m breaking all my chains and making scenes.

I’m on the rise.
I’m worldwide.
I’m not afraid to go outside
'Cos everything’s been blown to smithereens.

(verse three)
I was jamming in the john when the showerhead cracked.
I was singing “She Bop” as a matter-of-fact
And the bathtub crashed in a field of corn
And I’m standing here as naked as the day I was born.

(verse four)
There’s a burnt piece of plaster where the tragedy struck
And it smacks of disaster, but it feels like luck.
And the smoke is rising out of my iPod
And I’m dancing to the liberating beat of my God.

(repeat chorus)

(bridge)
Sometimes you got to beg for mercy.
Sometimes you got to misbehave.
Sometimes you got to take a breath and dig yourself out of your grave.

Sometimes you got to tear your house down.
Sometimes you got to make it right.
Sometimes you got to say a prayer and put your faith in dynamite.

Put your faith in dynamite!

(repeat chours)

I’m through the roof.
I’m out the door.
I’m not a prisoner anymore.
I’m breaking all my chains and making scenes.

I’m on the rise.
I’m worldwide.
I’m not afraid to go outside
'Cos everything is born from smithereens.

The Kitchen is Gone!
R. Maddock

All THAT I'M NOT LETTING GO OF

2009-04-17T03:24:00.006-04:00

Part Two

RM

Parton Forever!

2009-04-15T18:38:00.013-04:00

*In the Flesh*

Last night I went to the new musical 9 to 5 on Broadway. Aside from some really well-made and ripsnorting tunes, I knew the show was securing a worthy applause when a chevrolet-sized Xerox machine popped out of the stage. So the show was a great big blast, but here's the zapper (and please be mindful of the rarity of a zapper of this nature)...

THE ZAPPER

After the show, I followed some inner instincts and chanced upon the next best thing to the inventor of sweater vests & Almond Roca. That is to say that I met the world's coolest & cleverest jerkwater bombshell, the one & only--hold onto your hats--DOLLY PARTON! And by Dolly Parton, I do mean the real deal coat-of-diverse-colorations Dolly Rebecca Parton from Sevierville, Tennessee (as opposed to some slaggy downtown tranny named Omar). Rest assured, the woman is a spittoon full of diamonds. Dolly, you make me wanna pour myself a cup of ambition. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to lasso my ceiling fan.

RM

All THAT I'M NOT LETTING GO OF

2009-04-13T09:55:00.020-04:00

Part Three

RM

My Blog is Two Years Old!

2009-03-31T21:23:00.005-04:00

Celebrating the Aluminum River Horse...

Happy Birthday, blog!

xo
RM

I'm Throwing My Arms Around This Album

2009-01-30T19:04:00.004-05:00

A squally RANT over my advanced copy
of the A*M*A*Z*I*N*G* new Moz record

The new Morrissey record is a stalwart masterstroke made of hurricanes & testosterone. A virile, poetic chunk of Kung Fu Rock Music (with a tune about Paris, just for kicks). Sounds like a mixed breed of Frank Sinatra & Weezer with a scoche of Celia Cruz. No doubt this is my favorite record of the year. A Good Pill for Sailors!

Like spinach for Popeye,
R. Maddock
----------------------------------

My first concert at Carnegie Hall
3/11/09

2008 Movies

2009-01-28T09:55:00.004-05:00

MY TOP TEN

10. Vicky Cristina Barcelona
9. Burn After Reading
8. Doubt
7. Milk
6. Slumdog Millionaire
5. Revolutionary Road
4. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
3. Speed Racer
2. Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day
1. The Wrestler

Go Mickey!
RM

Break My Stride!

2009-01-16T23:40:00.002-05:00

I've got 1983 in my ears today...

This song recently came on the radio while I was eating lunch with a friend and I went nuts. No, I went wild nuts. There's a big difference between nuts and wild nuts. And this little 80's tune equals wild nuts all the way. I'm in love with the following lyrics:

LAST NIGHT I HAD THE STRANGEST DREAM
I SAILED AWAY TO CHINA
IN A LITTLE ROWBOAT TO FIND YA.
AND YOU SAID YOU HAD TO GET YOUR LAUNDRY CLEAN.

wild nuts,
R. Maddock

HAPPY NUDE YEAR!

2009-01-01T20:26:00.006-05:00

*2009*2009*2009*2009*

LIFE IS EITHER A DARING ADVENTURE OR NOTHING.
-Helen Keller

Be well,
Robert M.

ONE DAY: To The New Year!

2008-12-31T20:11:00.005-05:00

Smell My Christmas Hibiscus

This flower was growing behind my apartment earlier this month and I forgot that I took a picture of it. I think it's a good omen that something so distinctly Hawaiian actually reared its beautiful head during the dead of winter in NYC. Also, I'm pretty sure that if you bury a unicorn, this is what pops out of the ground. Normally I'm not into putting "lovely images" of botany on my blog, but I feel strongly that 2008 can only be commemorated with this photo. Smell it and weep.

Happy New Year in 1 Day!

RM

TWO DAYS: To The New Year!

2008-12-30T09:45:00.003-05:00

Let Winslet Win...

My favorite thing about the days between Christmas and New Years is that this week is ripe with the year's juiciest and most well-made films. I just went and saw a double-feature of back-to-back Kate Winslet gems: THE READER and REVOLUTIONARY ROAD. Yep, someone is going to acquire lots of sexy trophies in the very near future. Who better to play an illiterate, back-scrubbing German disgrace in one picture and a blood-stained housewife in the next? Kate Winslet wins!

Happy New Year in 2 Days!

RM

THREE DAYS: To The New Year!

2008-12-29T22:16:00.005-05:00

Peeps Lip Balm = Radiation Poisoning

Putting "Peeps" into chapstick form seemed like such a good idea, right? I mean, who doesn't want to wear Easter Sunday on their lips? These were my thoughts until I discovered the rude truth, which I'm now issuing in caps: PEEPS VANILLA MARSHMALLOW CREAM LIP BALM TASTES LIKE CANCER (or a chemical better left in Windex). Frankly, I'd sooner dip my lips in TNT. Thank heavens I got the "Speed Racer" DVD to make up for this most horrible X-mas present.

Happy New Year in 3 Days!

RM

137 2nd Ave. NY, NY 10003

2008-12-15T10:50:00.006-05:00

Everybody Loves a German With a Scalpel

For the last little while I've been temping on-and-off at the ?What If! Innovation Company's new location in the East Village. Built by Germans in 1862, the vibes inside this former psychiatric clinic still smack of spilled pills and pre-Weimar malpractice. But aside from all that, I want to take this moment to focus on the five orange heads that furbish the edifice with a soul-piercing intensity. If you're ever ambling down 2nd Ave, be sure to check out the heads on this rusty psycho farm. Or learn all about them right here: Through a bit of good old-fashioned research and my breakneck moves with a camera, I now bring you...the cold stone noggins of 2nd Ave. Dig in!

ERNST BAUMGARTNER: good bedside manner, said "drats" a lot, owned a monkey named Laverne.

KARLHEINZ OSTERHAGEN: invented the forceps, prone to streaking, predicted the existence of Velveeta cheese.

DOLF "stick-in-the-eyes" SCHUHMACHER: cured whooping cough, feared penguins, nurtured a secret crush on Nick Jonas.

WOLFGANG GOLDSCHMIDT: fabulous handwriting, liked to be called Moses, licked Pennzoil on a dare once.

FRANZISKA ZWEIG: hid morphine in her cleavege, farted religiously (on pews), drowned in self-tanning cream.

auf Wiedersehen!
Robert Maddock

Save the Mermaids!

2008-12-03T19:05:00.005-05:00

Aren't you glad it's Decemeber 3rd?

Seems like yesterday I was putting fish on my blog in celebration of Daryl Hannah's birthday. Now it's that time of year again, but there's so little to say. What is Daryl doing? I'll tell you what she's doing. She's sitting on YouTube talking about gas. Someone get her out of there! Poor thing. I want to take this moment to tell Daryl Hannah that being a mermaid once is worth more than being Whoopi Goldberg for a lifetime. And that's actually something that we can all take to heart during moments of [insert any tragic word you can think of].

Honoring make-believe sea creatures, I recently watched the direct-to-DVD prequel of The Little Mermaid, which has helped me realize how much I dislike watching octopus dance to Calypso music. What I don't mind, however, is the talented whirl of Ariel's A-name laden sisters: Adella, Adrina, Alana, Aquata, Arista, and Attina. Too bad there wasn't a slow one named Aloofa with a wandering eye and an inverted fin. Anyway, it only happens once a year--so don't let it slip away: December 3rd!

Happy Mermaid Day,
Robert M.

Zinnwaldite Love

2008-11-30T22:48:00.005-05:00

Where the Chihuahua Snoozes...

I've got some nasty pre-winter news. My thesaurus is disintegrating. Yesterday the cover withered off and now the pages are getting real shoddy. It seems like I chuck a thesaurus about once every three years. This one probably won't make it through February. In light of this moment, here are some synonyms for sadness, taken directly from the doomed book itself: anguish, blue devils, forlornness, mopes, the dumps, tribulation and woe. Anyway, "blue devils" is probably the most underused figure of speech in the English language. If you are sad--and your thesaurus is sad too--you are possessed by blue devils. I think that Isabella Rossellini said that in a movie once.

HOLIDAY CARNAGE: I recently made the mistake of going coat shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. A word to the wise: If you need a coat on the day after Thanksgiving in New York City, stay home. The rudeness levels are off the charts!! I saw salespeople crying and entire store aisles covered in trampled fleece. The dark side of humanity is rife when it's time to buy a parka after Turkey Day. I think corn-on-the-cob gives people warlike tendencies. I really do.

Someone on the Home Shopping Network was selling a "zinnwaldite" blanket and my ears perked up at the cool sounding Z word. I am a big fan of Z words--and this one is my latest infatuation. I'm not going to go into a bunch of needless details. Just click on *this* and everything will make sense. Also, here's a sentence that I invented: "The dead rape victim's ballet slippers were so mangy and faded that they began to take on a zinnwaldite tinge."

Speaking of Z words, last night I took this picture of my pooch who was busy catching some Z's of his own. My dog excels at enacting new forms of laziness, but doesn't he look a little too angelic here? I'm pretty sure this lamblike pose was just a ploy to get on my blog. He usually sleeps with his rude parts facing the ceiling.

STYLE & SCIENCE: I discovered this picture a week ago and without a second thought I converted it into my laptop's screen saver. Why? Because I love big hair and huge computers. Why else? I think this photo proves that the world should have exploded in 1973. Everything went downhill from there. Bouffant accomplishments and my solar-powered calculator were the height of civilization. It's official. We are now living in an afterthought.

XO
RM

DANGER BABY!

2008-11-19T19:16:00.008-05:00

Watch-ow-ow-ow-ow-Out...

INCENDIARY LUV: I'm celebrating my birthday today with danger. To be specific, I'm enjoying danger in the form of Little Jerry and the Monotones who just so happen to be Jim Henson's hands-down grooviest trouble-makers ever assembled. I'm not sure there's anything more dangerous than Little Jerry's pasta-like hairdo and neck-thrashing dance moves. Furthermore, this particular song & dance wipes out all other gigs by these funksters. No other tune comes closer to being my childhood anthem. Even though it only lasts for 2 minutes and 15 seconds, I think this perky smash-up put a little fire in my early psychological development. (Kinda made me wanna play with matches, if you know what I mean). It also begs the question: Are Muppets flammable? If you didn't think that likable children's characters could be shown getting their nylon butts blown up on TV, think again.

Slip on these lyrics:
I'm speaking from experience as you can see,
'Cos I have messed with danger and it's messed with me.

Ciao-ow-ow-ow-ow
Robert Maddock

Holy Saint Bon Jovi...

2008-11-12T19:34:00.003-05:00

An 80's Music Sacrilege!!

What you see in the photo above could happen in your car too if you're a Catholic who drives above the speed limit while listening to "It's a Sin" by the Pet Shop Boys. This photo inspired me to create a mix CD of my favorite religion-tinged pop songs that came out between 1980 and 1989. Lo and behold: the 80's was a heathen's decade, albeit in a good way. I believe all of the following songs were recorded in reaction to "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" which came out in 1979. Swing your rosary beads to these holy keepers...

1. LIKE A PRAYER-Madonna
2. IT'S A SIN-the Pet Shop Boys
3. TEMPTED-Squeeze
4. CHURCH OF THE POISON MIND-Culture Club
5. FAITH-George Michael
6. LIVIN' ON A PRAYER-Bon Jovi
7. VICAR IN A TUTU-The Smiths
8. PERSONAL JESUS-Depeche Mode
9. SACRIFICE-Elton John
10. THIEVES IN THE TEMPLE-Prince
11. SAVE A PRAYER-Duran Duran
12. MISSIONARY MAN-the Eurythmics
13. ANGEL OF THE MORNING-Juice Newton
14. SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY-U2
15. LOVE THY WILL BE DONE-Martika

Lest anyone forget: Joan of the 90's.

AMEN
R. Maddock

Sign of the Lines

2008-11-01T23:35:00.004-04:00

Ode to Corduroy

Corduroy is what one of my pants are made of, as well as a jacket that I don't wear very often. Both are brown.

Corduroy is a popular fabric, usually made of cotton, with vertical ribs. Corduroy pants are sometimes called "cords" or even "cordy-pants" if you're spunky.

Corduroy is the eighth track on Pearl Jam's 1994 album, Vitalogy.

Corduroy is a road made of logs laid crosswise.

Corduroy is a children's picture book about a bear.

JOKE:
Did you hear about the corduroy pillowcase?
It made headlines.

sincerely,
Robert M.

gee willikers, it's Halloween...

2008-10-31T16:55:00.001-04:00

The pumpkins are eating other pumpkins!

I could spend the whole year putting jack-o'-lanterns on my blog. Weird, right? I'm like a total Linus on Halloween. Ever since I was a kid I've always been a huge fan of the gourd-like squash of the genus Cucurbita. Did you just click on that link? This blog is freakishly educational. More children should check out my blog, but not if they click on this. Anyway, I went to New Hampshire last weekend and took lots of pictures of pumpkin patches and cemeteries. The picture below is both of those things in one spooky snapshot.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, blockhead.

RM

Welcome To The Pie Hole!

2008-10-30T15:19:00.004-04:00

Lyric by Robert Maddock

Two years ago I began baking a pie in the shape of a grubby musical (revue) called HEARKEN TO A PIE HOLE based loosely on The Iceman Cometh by Eugene O'Neill. Over the past year I've posted a number of the show's lyrics on this blog, but the show itself remains an unperformed mystery. I was hoping that this fall would be "Pie Hole" season, but the crows aren't busting through the crust. That's how you know when a pie like this is ripe and ready; the crows bust through the crust. Seriously though, I'm really proud of H2APH. I've worked hard on the lyrics and I believe they're the best I've ever written. So since another Halloween is about to come and go with no pie on the NYC platter, I'm slapping down a piece of it on my blog. Here's the theme song, right below this shamelessly overwritten blurb...

HEARKEN TO A PIE HOLE: Tales and tantrums by Iconis & Maddock. This is not the good behavior club. This is The Pie Hole: a stomping sleaze-pit full of Mephistophelian emcees, delightful derelicts, hedonistic hustlers, devilish monkeys, pirates, doomed arm-wrestlers and an actual baby in a jar. So put on your best bear skin vest and dust off your dead mother's brown derby to come experience a Most Repulsively Entertaining Night of Songs by Master Joe Iconis and Doctor Robert Maddock. Starring a cast of musical theater cabaret punks, this piano-smashing hurly-burly is a freak-filled tantrum about the dark side of Ventriloquism and the pleasantries of Hell. HEARKEN TO A PIE HOLE will haunt your thoughts and plague your dreams long after the blood on the chandeliers has dried.

"WELCOME TO THE PIE HOLE"

This is not the good behavior club.
Leave your manners at the door.
Check the number on your ticket-stub.
You could win the village whore.

Don’t be bothered by the gutted mime
Hanging in the chandelier.
We apologize ahead of time
If there’s an eyeball in your beer.

All the taxidermy on the walls
Nod their antlers to our tunes.
What we lack in shiny disco balls,
We make up for with full moons.

On the menu is a list of lies
And a scarcity of grub.
No use running as you realize
You’ve come to purgatory’s pub—

The funhouse of Beelzebub.
There’s blood on your lapel.
Welcome to the Pie Hole!
Make yourself at Hell!

It’s a topsy-turvy, dizzy dive.
You don’t know where you are.
There’s a headless dog at table five
And a madman at the bar.

Feast your peepers on the cabaret
Of the zombie infidel.
Hear how the crowd begins to yell!
Welcome to the Pie Hole!
Make yourself at Hell!

You got a bad, bad feeling
And it’s creepin’ up your soul.
But you’re having such a good time
When you’re sitting in the Hole!

It’s a circus of depravity
And a funeral in one.
You’ve been violated by the Pie,
But you know you’re having fun.
You know you’re having fun.

Admit it! YOU’RE HAVING FUN!

There’s a fire on the ceiling fan
And a wicked burning smell.
It’s getting hotter—can’t you tell?
Welcome to the Pie Hole!
Make yourself at Hell.

Until then,
Robert Maddock

Unabashed Hogwash

2008-10-22T21:16:00.015-04:00

(& the prettiest necktie in the world)

I had a dream once that I found a suitcase in the woods and when I opened it there was a dead person inside. Normally when people say "dreams come true" they aren't talking about dead bodies in suitcases, but when I say "dreams come true" that's all I'm talking about. And to think that it happened in sweet little old Yonkers?! What all of this boils down to is that being a drug mule is one way to acquire free luggage.

Speaking of meaty juices in NYC, I went to Hill Country today and polished off the meanest & nastiest jalepeno suasage I've ever met. What I love about this place is the way they handle the brisket with such crude violence. They literally throw it onto a sheet of butcher paper and then send you to your table with your meat dripping off crumpled stationery. Once you overcome the hillbilly abuse, sitting near the stacked logs in the back of the joint is sort of like being a guest-star on Little House on the Prairie.

Does anyone still do this? When I was a kid I remember one of my neighbors sat around sticking cloves into oranges. She probably had shingles and a mental illness, but that's not to undermine the heavenly decor of the citrus/clove combo. They look like leprechaun weapons, but these holiday goolies pack the redolence of some fierce-good-whiffings. If they outlast the Christmas season you can put them in your underwear drawer and walk around with a bouquet-scented crotch.

My dog came within two inches of defecating on the John Lennon IMAGINE memorial a few days ago. Can you imagine the fine for that? Yoko Ono was probably watching with her binoculars from the Dakota Building, spazzing in her ugliest tea-stained bathrobe.

When Paul Newman died, I upped a bunch of his movies to the top of my Netflix cue, but none of them were fun to watch and even the one with the coolest title (Cool Hand Luke) was kinda lame. I keep hearing people say the words "Paul Newman was my hero," which, from my perspective, sounds hilarious becuase eating the dead man's salad dressing has been the highlight of my mourning process.

My favorite scene in the movie "Silence of the Lambs" is when Agent Starling visits Frederica Bimmel's bedroom and finds a dress with half-sewn templates matching the patches of skin removed from Buffalo Bill's victims. That scene tips the scale for me every time! Nothing in any movie compares to Jody Foster's realization that the killer is a tailor with a penchant for skin garb. Needless to say, I just launched my pre-Halloween movie jubilee. Yeah!

I just finished reading my 17th Patricia Highsmith book and it's one of the wildest, most coiled and seething books I've ever read. It's barmy and unhinged, mama! A girl named Peggy is found dead in a bathtub and the next thing you know there's blood in the canals of Venice. "Those Who Walk Away" is a cracked gondola in a sharky sea. I limit myself to reading only one Patricia Highsmith book per year and this one is the bee's crop and the cream of the knees!

Last week I thought I was having vertigo when I couldn't find the Strand Book Annex downtown on Fulton Street near the South Street Seaport. It didn't even occur to me that the roughest and toughest bookstore in all of New York City could just be gone. I guess 9/11 didn't hit me hard enough. OFFICICAL: the Strand Book Annex is gone and the city's already a little cleaner and a little less interesting. Good luck finding a used book that's guaranteed to smell like burnt coffee combined with the reek of mildew from the water-damaged carpet in the children's section. Anyway, if they replace the building with a Crunch Fitness Center I'm gonna eat my hipster slang dictionary.

Earlier this month I went to Madonna's "Sticky and Sweet" concert and actually yawned during the highly unnecessary gypsy-themed segment, but I liked the kickoff with a gumball rolling down pitchy tunnels in a Tim Burton-esque factory filled with trap doors and molten candy juice. She did a grunge-rock version of Borderline, dredged up an Evita tune and pretty much thundered the stage for two hours without ever looking anything like a murdered stink-beast.

I love this prissy necktie!

XO
RM

"Zesty Color Choices"

2008-10-12T21:55:00.004-04:00

Blogging for nothing but STYLE

Since this muddy little blog 'o mine is no longer a fledgling calf, I've added a couple features and spanked the weary beast into shape. What with a high rating on a certain blogger-review forum there's no time like the present to begin adding gadgets and hooraying other blogs. Enter "Other Blog" exhibit A: Advanced Style is the perfect way to commemorate an aging beauty. I'm now visiting this blog on a regular basis to see what's happening in the world of spruce blazers and gold boots. Cheers to gold boots! In light of this moment I'm putting a bow tie on my blog and sending it off with the coiffed biddies who drink rhubarb juice on Park Avenue.

Long live the old!
RM

Electra Woman & Dyna Girl

2008-10-06T07:50:00.004-04:00

Short-Lived 70's Duo Lives On & On & On!

FLASHBACK: After all these years I'm still unashamedly hung-up on Sid and Marty Kroft's best-ever TV series called Electra Woman & Dyna Girl, or as they were known in Mexico: Electrabela y Dynachica (seriously). The show only eked out 8 much-forgotten episodes, but HOLY-ELECTRA-COW were they amazing! It's in my nature to go onto Youtube to check out the impossibly cool theme song (featured above). Also, I highly doubt there is better 70's nostalgia than this.

electra-love,
Robert Maddock

Periwinkle Blue

2008-10-04T12:38:00.002-04:00

QUOTES FROM "PSYCHO"

No! I will not hide in the fruit cellar!

Sheriff Al Chambers: He was goin' to question Norman Bates' mother. Right?
Lila Crane: Yes.
Sheriff Al Chambers: Norman Bates' mother has been dead and buried in Greenlawn Cenetery for the past ten years!
Eliza Chambers: I helped Norman pick out the dress she was buried in. Periwinkle blue.
Sheriff Al Chambers: It's the only case of murder and suicide on Fairvale ledgers.

Anyway, I hear the expression 'eats like a bird' it's really a [stammers] fals-fals-fals-falsity. Because birds really eat a tremendous lot. But I don't really know anything about birds. My hobby is stuffing things. You know...taxidermy.

Oh, someone has seen her, all right. Someone always sees a girl with $40,000.

Norman Bates: People always mean well. They cluck their thick tongues, and shake their heads and suggest, oh, so very delicately.

Well, if the woman up there is Mrs. Bates, who's that woman buried out in Greenlawn Cemetery!?

Norman Bates: I don't set a fancy table, but the kitchen's awful homey.

warmly,
Robert

Uncouth Newsflash

2008-09-26T11:59:00.000-04:00

Feel the Breeze

Cops hate it when people fart on them. Apparently a man named Jose Cruz didn't know this, but I'm not going to spoil the story. You can catch wind of it here. Also, this will be the last time there is a fart-related post on this blog because the Silver Hippo is way too classy for flatulence.

RM

Hot Plastic Hippie Magic

2008-09-24T16:13:00.005-04:00

I MADE THIS!

Anything that involves a hot iron and the chance to melt plastic is a surefire way to get me jumping in the craft room. This past summer my sister-in-law introuced me to the seldom-visted and rarely disappointing world of...Perler Beads! Not since Shrinky Dinks have I been so enthusiastic about an artform that requires raw heat and adult supervision. To top it off, the musical HAIR came to NYC this summer and inspired me to make a batch of hippie-themed junk coasters, which are on display in the photo above for your viewing ecstasy.

PEACE,
Robert M.

Follow the Strawberry Blond

2008-09-19T17:19:00.010-04:00

lyric by Robert Maddock

FEMME FATALE: A French phrase with the literal translation "fatal woman." A femme fatale is a sensuous, alluring woman who often leads men into danger...

Follow The Strawberry Blond

(verse one)
Hey mister law-abiding citizen
Why play it safe behind the wheel?
You’ve had your nightmares and your fantasies.
Now give it up for something real.

(chorus 1)
There’s a woman stopping traffic
And she’s blowing you a kiss
At the downtown intersection
Of depravity and bliss.

Will she lure you into danger?
Do you know how you’ll respond?
You can follow the law!
Or you can follow the strawberry blond!

(verse two)
She makes you hunger for emergency.
Your car is itching for a dent.
What happened to your sense of discipline?
Go ask the devil where it went.

(chorus 2)
She’s the mistress of the highway
Rousing you from second gear
And the curb of her seduction
Is the only way you steer.

Will you ride the road to ruin?
Do you know how you’ll respond?
You can follow the law!
Or you can follow the strawberry blond!

(bridge)
You thought that you already knew how heat felt,
But she is hot enough to make the street melt.
So double-check the buckle on your seatbelt.
Tonight might be the night you don’t come home.

(chorus 3)
She’s a fire-breathing siren
In a racy halter-top
And her name is Violation
And her game is not to stop.

Will you crash into her poison?
Do you know how you’ll respond?
You can follow the law!
Or you can follow the strawberry blond!

XO
RM

Missing Granny Photo Uncovered!

2008-08-27T10:31:00.001-04:00

Celebrating a Vintage Bird

For years now I've been searching high & low for a long-lost photograph of my grandma that was taken on her wedding day back in the 30's. All I could remember about the photo was that she looked like a silky white mermaid dipped in Shalimar. Lo and behold, last night I found the photograph in mint condition. It was tucked in the very back of my filing cabinet, which is a shoddy Black Hole in the shape of a filing cabinet. Do you know how hard it is to retrieve something from a Black Hole? Anyway, now that I've tugged granny's wedding picture out of the gravity-slurping void, I'm reminiscing on the life of a supremely classy lady. My grandma's name was Lillian Gertrude Stonell and she was proud to have the letter "L" in her name five times. Who wouldn't be? What I really like about this picture is that it accurately captures her sugar-loving vibes. My grandma was the human equivalence of a cupcake.

5 L's,
Robert Maddock

It's British Invasion Day!

2008-08-22T18:37:00.004-04:00

No Codswallop Whatsoever Permitted

Hey, Johnny Kittledock! I'm chuffed to bits to tell you that exactly 46 years ago The Beatles arrived in NYC. That's a stonking big deal if there ever was one, right? Hey, why are you honking your porridge, mate? You don't like British Invasion Day? Why you dodgy todger! Get back here, you slaggy knob. Let's have a row. I'll box your ears!

TO BE CONTINUED...

cheerio,
Robert

8/25/08

We meet again, palsy duffers. In last week's episode of the Silver Hippo, a certain Johnny Kittledock almost got himself a kick in the goolies for bad-mouthing British Invasion Day. Alas, the truth comes out. Johnny Kittledock...is me! Surprise, surprise. I've got an alter ego with a prissy name. So what is it that I don't like about Old England? Well, I'll tell you right now: soggy biscuits and Shakespeare. I also think Monty Python movies are the dumbest thing on the Earth. Fish & Chips make me wanna puke on Hugh Grant. LAMEST BRITISH MOMENT OF ALL TIME: When Princess Diana got crunched and Elton John turned his song "Candle in the Wind" into "Goodbye England's Rose." I still don't understand why he didn't give the mangled princess her own friggin' song. I mean, if you can write Lestat: the musical in five minutes, you could at least whip up a new tune for some dead royalty, right?

Anyhoo, I've been temping for the past few days at a hip downtown innovation company that was founded by some incredibly keen British innovators. Truth be told, there's plenty to love about Old Blighty...and this is where I tip my hat, even though I'm not really wearing a hat. Cheers, Limeys!

Chimney Sweeps!

Alfred Hitchcock!

Double-Decker Busses!

Stonehenge!

Madonna's Accent!

Sexy Knickers!

Oh, Yeah! I almost forgot.

RM

Calling 311

2008-08-20T16:14:00.002-04:00

It's easy and it's fun!

If nothing around you is on fire or bleeding, you can always call 311 and report some minor ugliness. I have a neighbor who calls 311 whenever she hears an unpleasant noise. You can also call 311 if you see a leaky fire hydrant or if there's a stink in the air that is making your throat itch. With that said, you have to be careful not to call 311 if the issue you are calling about involves an emergency. The people at 311 only want to hear about "trivial hazards" on the level of banana peels and squeaky park benches. I'm not good at calling 311 because on both of the instances when I called them, they forwarded me over to the killjoys at 911--and that is a whole different can of gasoline. Anyway, I think everyone needs to feel a sense of impending danger now and then. That's why it's my dream to start a phone-number called 811 in which people can call and just make stuff up. It will be the world's first hotline for false alarms.

RM

Breakfast In Hell

2008-08-18T16:28:00.003-04:00

The food is in the music...

WELCOME TO ROBERT'S SYMPHONIC PICNIC. I love it when songs have to do with food. The above song is my favorite "food tune" right now, but here's a whole buffet of songs that pertain to saucy grub and good-time grits:

Coconut
Animal Crackers
Savoy Truffle
Hot Dog
American Pie
Mother Popcorn
Lemon
Pork and Beans
I'm Going Bananas
Gravy

chow!
RM

The Great Road Powwow of '08

2008-08-10T17:12:00.008-04:00

9,000 miles in 12 days

My road trip to Yellow Stone Park was a buffalo-crammed pilgrimige and a crystal-clear whiff of the Great Outdoors. I saw Old Faithful, two grizzly bears, a forest fire and more than ten million chipmunks. On a gory note, I got a good hard look at enough roadkill to last me a lifetime of pitying dead things. Wyoming and the Dakotas are pretty much founded on pulverized raccoon butts, but the excursion was well worth the price of gasoline (and the fancy marbles I bought in Montana).

Once the buffalo started spilling out of the hills, I rolled up the window and took pictures as they strode past my rented Chevy. The following picture was literally taken at a distance of less than six inches. It could be Mister Snuffleupagus under a magnifying glass, but it's not. This is my favorite picture from the whole trip.

My favorite hotel on this trip was built in the 20's and had lots of old taxidermy in the lobby. This moose head gave me a friendly nod, I think. Notice the antique piano at the foot of the staircase. At one point it had a sign on it that said: Keep your children's fingers off this instrument. With that said, I can't tell you how many tourists I saw farting on this paino. Also, to cross Lake Michigan, here's the boat that takes cars over the water. I sat on this boat for two-and-a-half hours while my dog had to stay below (in the car) because they don't allow dogs above deck.

Throughout the drive, I listened to Elvis Presley nonstop and swallowed heaps of Zyrtec to ward off my hayfever. I feel like the entire experience would have been vastly different if it weren't for Zyrtec and Elvis. Throw in some cheese from Winconsin and there you have the perfect highway venture.

My dog and I got out of the car and jumped into this pond, which was a hillbilly's makeshift swimming pool in a small town called Miles City somewhere in the midwest. There was a scary species of moss growing in the depths of this place and it kind of freaked me out when the moss got on my feet, but notwithstanding the moss I loved the Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah vibes here and the thought of all the skinny-dipping bumpkins who ever dipped thier heinies in this dirty lagoon. It was like swimming in bumble-bee poo and root beer.

Seeing Mount Rushmore for the first time was a mini-dream come true for me. Ever since I was in fourth grade, I always wanted to lay my eyes on the high & mighty presidents of rock. It amazes me that these colossal heads exist in the zenith of a stone mountain, but it also bums me out that this monument wasn't formed naturally by glaciers. Wouldn't it be the weirdest thing of all time if this just happened all by itself? At any rate, here's some final shots I snapped of another roadside buffalo and some famous Indians that I learned about at the Crazy Horse museum in South Dakota. In conclusion, I'm tagging on a picture of the "corn palace" which is an edifice made of corn located in a hicktown called Mitchell (somewhere in the Great Plains). It's incredible to me how, even when shaped into a massive building, corn is still totally uninteresting.

Alas, my Road Powwow is a thing of the past. I've laid my marbles to rest in a drawer. My dog is exhausted. The smell of Idaho is barely lingering in my hair. And the Chevy I rented is being driven by someone else, probably a flatulent insurance salesman from Newark.

"I was warmed by the sun, rocked by the winds and sheltered by the trees as other Indian babes. I can go everywhere with a good feeling."
—Geronimo (1829 – 1909), Apache

cheers,
Robert Maddock

Happy Birthday

2008-07-24T10:13:00.008-04:00

Lynda Carter turns 57 today.

In honor of Lynda Carter's birthday I'm posting all the words to the superbly crafted and excellently bouncy Wonder Woman TV theme song. These are words to live by if you're into satin tights and headbands that also serve as a boomerang. As a lyricist I actually love this song. The rhymes are hilarious and each verse pertains to a specific aspect of Wonder Woman's star-spangled outfit. Great Hera! There's even a part about making liars tell the truth, as in "get into my lasso, liar!" Anyway, I'm just babble-typing now. Here's the stuff:

All the world's waiting for you,
and the power you possess.
In your satin tights,
Fighting for your rights
And the old Red, White and Blue.

Now the world is ready for you,
and the wonders you can do.
Make a hawk a dove,
Stop a war with love,
Make a liar tell the truth.

Get us out from under, Wonder Woman!

All our hopes are pinned on you.
And the magic that you do.
Stop a bullet cold,
Make the Axis fold,
Change their minds, and change the world.

You're a wonder, Wonder Woman!

always,
R. Maddock

Clowns and Bikers

2008-07-23T22:30:00.007-04:00

and a "quote" by Groucho Marx

Normally I would laugh at a joke about cannibalism, but here's one that triggered nary a giggle out of me: "TWO CANNIBALS ARE EATING A CLOWN. ONE OF THE CANNIBALS STOPS EATING AND SAYS TO THE OTHER, "THIS CLOWN TASTES FUNNY." That's it. That's the whole entire joke. When I first heard this joke I actually felt like my lack of laughter got up and punched me in the face. This joke assaulted my intelligence. It's probably one of my favorite jokes of all time.

Looks like I'm going to the biker's ball. YeeHaw! My road trip to Yellowstone Park and Mount Rushmore (which kicks off in two days) is coinciding with this year's annual, hirsute fatty infested Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Sweaty leather H.O.G. daddies watch out, I'll be traveling in my lucky Hawaiian flip-flops and I'm looking forward to some rumbling tension on the highway. There's nothing quite like the sight of 2,000 Hell's Angels in the rearview mirror. Tequila!

"Either this man is dead or my watch has stopped."

sincerely,
Robert M.

Toe-Eating Dachshunds (On My Mind)

2008-07-20T11:39:00.005-04:00

Whatcha wanna talk about, Jeeves?

Some bad stuff (aka dookie) has struck the fan recently, but I'm kicking off my blog entry with a sweet decree: Passion Fruit yogurt by Yoplait is so good that it might as well be edible Care Bear dreams. Normally I'm against ingesting any form of fermented bacteria, but right now my aversion toward foods that remind me of phlegm...is actually on hiatus. Go Yoplait!

After talking about yogurt, I now want to make the obvious transition by talking about toes. The above picture is real cute, right? I mean, we all wish our toes smiled like that. Alas, someone's toes are not smiling. Someone's little piggies are down to nine and that's where I stop talking and leave the rest to news.com.au WARNING: It invloves a puppy.

I keep calling people Jeeves by accident. "Greetings, Jeeves." See what I mean? I just did it to you. Yesterday on the phone I even called my own mother Jeeves. Why does this keep happening? Well, I'll tell you why. I want a butler. Preferably a tragically sad and British one who has no life of his own. Basically I want Anthony Hopkins to reprise his role as Mister Stevens. He can start by dredging up all my dog's chew-toys that have fallen between the crack of my bed and the wall.

The Hugging Saint came to NYC and I missed out on my free gardenia-scented gypsy rape! No worries, I'm gonna hug myself while watching Steel Magnolias. Shelby Drink Yer Juice!

Luv,
Roberto

The Gory Know-How and the Tools!

2008-07-13T10:31:00.013-04:00

New Lyric...

Inspired by a vintage gangster flick called "White Heat" starring James Cagney as a temperamental mama's boy (with an affinity for stealing gas trucks), I got seduced by the film's thermal intensity and wrote the following lyric:

DUCT TAPE
AND A BLOWTORCH
AND A TANK OF GASOLINE

(verse one)
I wrote the book on vengeance without mercy
Called “How to Make Your Neighbor Shut His Trap”
It chronicles the crimes of Jimmy Hoffa
And all the do’s-and-don’ts of bubble-wrap.

(verse two)
You got a problem.
Don’t be queasy.
Blood on the carpet
Comes out easy.
I got a knack for doing dirty jobs
And turning dead men into shish kebobs

(chorus)
With duct tape and a blowtorch and a tank of gasoline
I got everything I’ll ever need to detonate a scene
And the bodies either vanish or turn up in a ravine
With duct tape and a blowtorch and a tank of gasoline.

(verse three)
There’s half a politician in my bathtub.
The other half is in my SUV,
But no one’s picking up the stench of murder
‘Cos I put out a bowl of potpourri.

(verse four)
You got a problem.
I can solve it.
Show me a carcass.
I’ll dissolve it
I got the gory know-how and the tools
To turn your problem into molecules

(repeat chorus)

(verse five)
Now mama’s frowning down on me from heaven
And guilty feelings fester in my head,
But I can hardly remedy the damage
‘Cos everyone I’ve tampered with is dead.

(verse six)
Chop up the torso.
Start the chainsaw.
Pour the ammonia.
Let the brain thaw.
I got a problem dragging me down hard
And hell is known for catching men off guard

(repeat chorus)

fondly,
Robert Maddock

Everything & Diddly-Squat:

2008-06-30T15:06:00.003-04:00

My "No Apology Anthology" of Stuff

XO
RM

Heart Songs

2008-06-29T22:14:00.009-04:00

These are the songs I keep singin'...

25. Breakfast in America-Supertramp
24. Magic Colors-Lesley Gore
23. Tie Our Love (In A Double Knot)-Dolly Parton
22. Sexy Boy-Air
21. Tusk-Fleetwood Mac
20. Candy-Iggy Pop
19. Ode to Billie Joe-Bobbie Gentry
18. The Rainbow Connection-Kermit the Frog
17. Bette Davis Eyes-Kim Carnes
16. I Almost Forgot-Mattew Sweet
15. Lemon Tree-Peter, Paul and Mary
14. Pulling Mussels (from the Shell)-Squeeze
13. Call Me-Blondie
12. This Must be the Place-Talking Heads
11. Edge of Seventeen-Stevie Nicks
10. Carry On Wayward Son-Kansas
9. Mother and Father-Madonna
8. D'You Know What I Mean?-Oasis
7. We Must Believe in Magic-Crystal Gayle
6. Looking for Space-John Denver
5. Boogie Pilgrim-Elton John
4. All Through the Night-Cyndi Lauper
3. November Spawned a Monster-Morrissey
2. The Outlaw Blues-Pat Benatar
1. Ask-The Smiths

And one for the road: Tapioca Tundra!

Robert M.

THE BLACK SUITS!!!

2008-06-28T22:08:00.001-04:00

Summer Play Festival 2008

One of my musical projects that I wrote with Joe Iconis: THE BLACK SUITS, is going to be the first show in the lineup of shows at this year's Summer Play Festival. For performance times and other details, click HERE.

Go Blackies, Go!
Robert Maddock

Madonna Eats Gold

2008-06-20T20:58:00.001-04:00

and suddenly it all makes sense...

(1983)

(2008)

XO
RM

Drowning in Japanese Punch

2008-06-11T21:14:00.002-04:00

Trippy Colossal Flower Blowout...in Brooklyn!

It's been a disgustingly humid & hectic week, but not too humid & hectic for me to mosey on down to the Brooklyn Museum of Art where the unstoppably mind-punching masterworks of Takashi Murakami are currently squelching the scene. All I can say is that words can't even describe the frighteningly cheerful opulence. It's like a giant in the shape of Marsha Brady tipped over and leaked her pink brains out. Yummy rainbows come full circle and almost become your teddy bear's worst nightmare. Forget about the decorations on your stuck-up aunt's Louis Vuitton bag. Here's to the man who conjures happy jellyfish-eyeballs and enough smiling daisies to cure suicide and probably diaper rash.

Exhibition ends July 13th!

RM

Do You Flume?

2008-05-27T00:19:00.006-04:00

Setting Foot in a Great Big Crack...

I'm in New Hampshire right now, visiting small towns where Walgreens is the height of civilization and everyone looks like Celia Weston. At this very moment my socks are wet from walking around in what some people call a FLUME and what others refer to as a GORGE. I prefer FLUME and have decided to avoid using that other word. Anyway, flumes are exciting for a variety of reasons, which I will now number. 1. They are mossy & aquatic realms of adventure. 2. They are rare formations that penetrate the Earth's crust and exemplify the curiosities of ancient wildlife. 3. They smell like Pirates.

All in all, flumes make me want to write pretty sentences, such as this one: I enjoy cavorting in the lush wonders of a soggy flume in May.

always,
Robert M.

"Elbows Anchored..."

2008-05-22T08:13:00.002-04:00

NEW LYRIC!

I asked myself: What's something that I would probably never write a song about, aside from Kelly Ripa and beige carpeting? The answer came to me: ARM WRESTLING. But on second thought, arm wrestling is exactly the thing to seize upon in this age of tremoring gonads and dainty punches, right? So I put up my dukes and scratched out a few lines about a couple of old-timey scuffle-drunks named Gus and Johnny. Despite the gristly subject matter, I even found a way to sneak a mermaid into the bridge! Also, Joe Iconis set this song to some killer strains that remind me of Gene Pitney and a film score from the 1950's rough-and-racy youth rebellion genre! So take this, kids...

SMACK-DAB JOHNNY
AND A GUY NAMED GUS

(intro)
They’ve been sitting here since nineteen thirty-seven
In this hot saloon where no one ever leaves.
When they saw they’d gone to Hell instead of Heaven,
That’s when Gus and Johnny first rolled up their sleeves.

(verse one)
Smack-dab Johnny stumbled into the bar
With the grace of a twister and a bumper car.
He was looking for a customer to volunteer
To wrestle him down in a puddle of beer.

(verse two)
Smack-dab Johnny has a capital fist
And the arm of Goliath and an iron wrist.
He was flexing his authority in front of us
When he met his match in a guy named Gus.

(chorus 1)
Elbows anchored on the table,
All jumped up like a jumper cable,
Not since Cain did away with Abel
Has there ever been a bigger fuss
Than Smack-dab Johnny and a guy named Gus.

(verse three)
Gus got Johnny in the clench of his paw,
But his veins are exploding and he locked his jaw.
Every muscle in his pinkie is about to rip,
But he won’t back down and he’s keeping his grip.

(verse four)
Gus got Johnny turning blue in the face
With the sweat and the spasm of a mental case.
It’s a hell of a fiesta for a pair of mitts
In a show of strength and a lack of wits.

(chorus 2)
Egos burn and fury heightens.
Stake your claim on a star that brightens.
Not since Clash had to do with Titans
Has there ever been a bigger fuss
Than Smack-dab Johnny and a guy named Gus.

(bridge)
Now the years have gone by and the old days are gone,
But Smack-dab is doggedly still holding on.
It’s a lesson in stamina, posture and grit,
The swagger of men who were too good to quit.

Now the mermaid tattoo on the shoulder of Gus
Is losing her patience and starting to cuss.
And the bartender wipes off the counter and sneers,
“Those blokes have been at it for seventy years!”

(repeat both choruses)

Love,
Robert Maddock

Bergstrom Freakshow!

2008-05-21T10:09:00.001-04:00

Riding in the Antlers of Savage Tomfoolery

A couple weeks ago I met an illustrator named Erik Bergstrom who specializes in drawing and painting children in odd predicaments, i.e. small boys caught up in the scraggly antlers of blob-like sloths. I guess you could say that Erik is an "emerging" artist, but the word "emerging" kinda makes me queasy for some reason (probably cuz it makes me think of poo). I also don't like the term "up and coming" for obvious reasons. At any rate, Erik Bergstrom is a new-to-the-scene artist in NYC and I predict that he's going to become sickeningly famous within the next five minutes. I just bought two prints off him and now my bedroom contains wee juveniles in the beards of mastodonic harpies! Endangered toddlers never looked so good.

RM

All in the Name of a Dog's Toenails

2008-05-20T09:17:00.003-04:00

Endorsing Brooklyn's Finest Mutt Salon

I'm not a big believer in overly pampering animals, but lately it seems like I'm always standing around in Kiki's...waiting for my chihuahua to finish getting his butt shampooed. The pet grooming place in my neighborhood gets so much of my business that I'm pretty sure my dog could find his way there blindfolded. (I do blindfold my dog from time to time, but that's more of a personal matter). Anyway, here's my stern recommendation: Go to Kiki's and behold the smile on the mug of your pug. They even sell frosted cookies for pets, which probably cause puppy-dog cancer, but it's the American way and your dog is really just a fat pig!

Kiki's Pet Spa & Boutique
239 Dekalb Ave.
Brooklyn, NY 11205

sincerely,
Roberto M.

FIGS & JUICE: a tale of horrific coincidence

2008-05-19T18:00:00.003-04:00

"Queen of Hearts" was my favorite song when I was 7.

True story: when I was a kid I walked into the house and found my dad eating Fig Newtons in the kitchen. I had never seen a Fig Newton before and I was intrigued by the curvature of the odd snack. I said, "Father, may I please have one of those things you're eating?" My dad paused from his nibbling and relpied, "Of course, my son." As he reached out and handed me my first-ever Fig Newton, I had no idea what eerie powers were looming in my house. Without another word, I held the Fig Newton for a long time and brought it to my bedroom.

Clutching the curious treat as I sat on the edge of my bed, I turned on the radio and adjusted the dial. Now this is where the story get's really supernatural and kind of unsettling. Just as I bit into the Fig Newton, the deejay announced the song "Queen of Hearts" by Juice Newton. My heart skipped a beat and I'm pretty sure the lights flickered. What were the chances? It freaked me out as a kid and it still haunts me a little, but to this day I love Fig Newtons and I love Juice Newton as well. I also love juice.

cheers,
Robert Maddock

Polishing my Bandrat Jargon

2008-04-30T21:22:00.001-04:00

Know where the beat is? Huh? Do you?

Hey jerks and fillies! Wanna get your wig loosened? That means: are you receptive to new ideas. Well, are you or not? I found my hipster slang dictionary last week and let's just say that my dog is very wise now. Here are my favorite entries in the A-1 catalog of bughouse prattle circa 1925! Read on, B-girls and clutch busters. In my book, you're more fun than a hot transfusion!

I DIG YOUR LICK:
meaning: I understand what you're saying.

AIN'T NO SIN TO TAKE OFF YOUR SKIN AND DANCE AROUND IN YOUR BONES.
meaning: enjoy yourself and relax

FALL DOWN, JUVENILE.
meaning: Stop bothering me, you irritating youth.

BLAST YOURSELF WACKY
meaning: to go mad

GASSING THE SLOBS
meaning: to impress your audience

LETTING THE AIR OUT OF SOMEONE
meaning: stabbing them

MUST HAVE BEEN TOUGH ON YOUR MOTHER, NOT HAVING ANY CHILDREN.
meaning; You don't impress me.

HI-POCKETS
meaning: nickname for a tall guy

COLD MEAT PARTY
meaning: a funeral

ENOUGH BREAD TO BURN A WET MULE
meaning: very rich

PRAYERBONES
meaning: your knees

YOU'RE MY HABIT, RABBIT.
meaning: I dig you the most.

SO LONG, PAL, BE PURE
meaning: hipster farewell

XO
RM

13 Lempickas

2008-04-29T23:37:00.007-04:00

Murderers, Kidnappers, Lechers and Lesbians!

I'm reading up on the icy vibes of Tamara de Lempicka and her shrewd art-deco posse of narcissism and style. Yeah! If I was a millionaire I'd buy one of the following and hang it over my toilet.

COMING SOON:
Shocking vintage slang from the 20's!

Robert Maddock

The Lady Who Sat on Her Toilet for 2 Years

2008-04-03T23:12:00.003-04:00

It's obviously a sad story

Tonight I'm thinking about the lady who sat on her toilet for 2 years. I feel sad for her. Apparently her skin was grafted to the seat. I know it's sick, but it happened. Oh, did you think I was making it up? That's disgusting. Why would I make up a story like that? Don't ever visit my blog again if you can't handle the true story of the lady who sat on her toilet for 2 years.

CLICK ON THIS RIGHT NOW, DOUBTER.

RM

DEVIL MONKEY

2008-04-02T22:54:00.009-04:00

Lyric by Robert Maddock

I can't believe I just spent an hour looking for "satanic monkey images" on the internet. What I do on behalf of this blog never ceases to amaze me. At any rate, here's a lyric that I wrote about 2 or 3 months ago. It's my anti-monkey tirade. Did I ever mention that I strongly disfavor monkeys, chimps, apes and basically all species of primates? Well, I do. They are simply not for me.

I want to lie right now and say that I was bitten by a monkey as a child, but this blog is no place for lies. So why the aversion toward monkeys? All I can say is they remind me too much of Diane Keaton. Also, Diane Keaton bit me as a child.

Devil Monkey

I was drinking dirty moonshine.
I was filling up on quiche
When a burglar came around
And took my monkey off his leash.

He came sneaking in on tiptoe
Through the backdoor of my shack
And he ran out of the ghetto
With my monkey in a sack.

Now I’m warning the abductor.
Let me say it loud and clear.
That old monkey was the devil
And I’m glad he isn’t here!

You got yourself the curse of Devil Monkey.
That scamp is gonna up and cut your throat.
You got yourself a mono con diablo.
Don’t bother writing me a ransom note.

I don’t know what you were after,
But I sure know what you got.
If you feed him a banana,
Keep in mind he likes it hot.

Throw him carnivals and parties.
Try to meet all his demands.
When you took away my monkey
You took Satan off my hands.

You got yourself the curse of Devil Monkey.
Get set to find your house under attack.
You got yourself a mono con diablo.
And come what may don’t ever bring him back.

I think I’m gonna go to church on Sunday,
Confess my sins and further my belief.
I think that I might even light a candle
And thank the Lord for sending me a thief.

ciao!
Robert Maddock

Hey! It's April First!

2008-04-01T23:44:00.002-04:00

to speak...and then to die

2008-03-31T21:00:00.010-04:00

Sometimes what you say is boring, unless you die right after you say it. That's what the book I'm reading is all about. It's called FAMOUS LAST WORDS, FOND FAREWELLS, DEATHBED DIATRIBES AND EXCLAMATIONS UPON EXPIRATION. Basically, this book supports the notion that eloquence is overrated. What this book says to me is, "go ahead and die in your dumbest state-of-being. It's okay to be sloppy-of-speech in your final hours--even if you are Thomas Jefferson."

DEATH PRECEDED BY UTTERANCES: samples below

I see black light.
-Victor Hugo

Get my swan costume ready.
-Anna Pavlova, ballerina

Is it not meningitis?
-Louisa M. Alcott

Damn it...Don't you dare ask God to help me.
-Joan Crawford (whose maid had begun to pray)

Good-bye...why am I hemorrhaging?
-Boris Pasternak

I did not get my Spaghetti-O's, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.
-Thomas J. Grasso, Executed by injection

I can't sleep.
-James M. Barrie

Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something.
-Pancho Villa, Mexican revolutionary

Robert Maddock

Pettigrew Prevails

2008-03-30T00:07:00.004-04:00

WHY I LOVED THIS MOVIE

Before I went and saw this movie, somebody told me it was a slow-moving chick-flick. Then a guy on TV said that it was "sweet, but sloppy." And then the New York Daily News said that it "strains frantically to evoke the champagne fizz of classic screwball comedies."

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. All of them...el wrongo.

This movie is actually sorta perfect. It's like a lady's vintage mitten that you find on the subway and you don't know what to do with it, so you give it to your sister and then a year later you ask her if she still has it. You act like it doesn't matter, but when she says "yes" you feel inexplicably warm and thankful--even though it has nothing to do with you. It has no connection to your life or your business. Why would you want anything to do with that old paw-frock? And yet it stays hold of you like a fluffy leech that you dream of in your sleep. On those rare occasions when you sleep (and have dreams). That's why I loved this movie.

RM

The BEST Blonde Joke of ALL TIME!!

2008-03-29T21:14:00.004-04:00

A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and one night he's doing a show in a small town in Arkansas. With his dummy on his knee, he starts going through his usual dumb blonde jokes when a blonde in the 4th row stands on her chair and starts shouting: "I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes. What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What does the color of a person's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the community and from reaching our full potential--because you and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes, but women in general, and all in the name of humor!" The embarrassed ventriloquist begins to apologize, and the blonde yells, "You stay out of this, mister! I'm talking to that little shit on your knee!"

Robert Maddock

Happy Birthday, Blog!

2008-03-28T23:33:00.002-04:00

The Silver Hippo is ONE Year Old

I haven't blogged in over a month, and frankly it's been kinda nice. This Silver Hippo has done nothing over the past year but take my time and steal my money. The hippo is RUDE and DISRESPECTFUL. It cusses, drinks and farts like a truck-driver. And to be honest, I might kill it soon. Then again, that's probably just me making an empty threat.

RM

Sleep Won't Come...

2008-02-23T15:45:00.001-05:00

There's No "Z" in my Alphabet.

Tried to sleep last night. It didn't work.

zzzzz...X
Robert

The Vagabond

2008-02-21T23:02:00.001-05:00

Lyric by Robert Maddock

Somebody recently asked me why I never post my lyrics on my blog. I don't know why I don't, except that now I do. Here's one called The Vagabond. I took out the bridge for blogging purposes, but believe me there's a real dandy bridge.

THE VAGABOND

It’s a good thing that you never kissed a vagabond,
Cuz the vagabond is married to the road.
You could sew that man a hundred Sunday underpants,
But he’d only run away in what you sewed.

It’s a good thing that you never knew a vagabond,
Cuz the vagabond would only make you cry
As he walks away from principles and promises
At the scent of opportunity and pie.

The kind of man I’m glad you never met
Would bog you down with alcohol and debt.
Goodbye my dear. Now say you won’t forget
To keep your distance from the vagabond.

You got whiskey-flavored kisses on your negligee
From the hours we canoodled in motels.
And what I thought was nothing but a rendezvous
Is what you call the dawn of wedding bells.

I’m afraid I have to catch a train to Omaha,
But you have my word that I will correspond.
Now be careful of the tomcats and the charlatans
And that universal dog—the vagabond.

The kind of man I’m glad you never met
Would bog you down with alcohol and debt.
Goodbye my dear. Now say you won’t forget
To keep your distance from the vagabond.

-Robert M.

(Be my) Turpentine Valentine

2008-02-14T21:06:00.001-05:00

Defending the Kazoo and Tracking Down a Buffalo Horn

Today the kazoo was outlawed from the Jonathan Larson Award ceremony in which one of my songs was presented. Notwithstanding the ban on raspy little party horns, the kazoo took the stage and got blown in glorious mutiny. Why is musical theatre so bent on ousting kazoos? I mean, if you don't enjoy the kazoo you probably have AIDS.

This figurine is an impish humdinger.

Why does my dog smell like grape soda? I don't have any grape soda in my apartment, but every time I give him a whiff he smells exactly like a Welch's carbonated beverage. It's amazing. I smell my dog all the time now.

I ran all over China Town today looking for a buffalo horn to give my wife for her birthday (Happy Birthday Melanie). She uses buffalo horns to rub on people as part of a massage therapy treatment called "Gua Sha" in which toxins are brought to the surface of the skin. Anyway, I just want to thank the old Chinese man who literally designated himself my tour guide and stayed with me for an hour until we found a jade buffalo horn in a Chinese pharmacy on Mott Street.

I can't shake my obsession with the word TURPENTINE.

Love,
Robert

Hamster Mansion!

2008-02-09T06:13:00.000-05:00

and a DEAD MAN in a CAVE...

I was recently doing some research on hamster cages for a novel I'm editing and I came across this incredible photo of somebody's makeshift rodent hotel. I love this picture because it brings me back to the critter farm I grew up on. When I was a kid, my brothers and I used to raise hamsters and we'd attach their cages with various Plexiglas tubes and extensions. No hamster of mine ever said, "there's no where to go in here" or the more emotional grievance, "I feel claustrophobic."

Speaking of claustrophobia, I just saw an amazing NYU production of FLOYD COLLINS--a lulling musical about a doomed hick in a tight spot. Directed by the insanely talented John Simpkins, this show really blew my boots off. I mean, if I was into wearing boots they'd definitely be off right now. "The Ballad of Floyd Collins" is my new favorite showtune. The show itself is a dusty banjo leaking folksongs and riddles. It's plucky and down-to-earth (pun intended) and it's the skeletal remains of an American dream. I think there should be more musicals about getting stuck in things:

"Sure enough, his fortune is what he found."

-Robert M.

Where to Buy Good Soup

2008-01-31T11:19:00.000-05:00

My new favorite place in New York City is the Amish Market on 9th Ave between 49th and 50th. It's the home of the most succulent tomato-cheddar soup *and* the home of nice people who are Amish. I wanted to ask them about "rumspringa" but I simply didn't dare. Anyway, their soup is fun to enjoy on the bench just outside the storefront by the sidewalk. I did this recently and it was a hearty experience. Mark my words, the Amish make good soup.

XO
RM

Keep Your Dead Baby Hippo to Yourself

2008-01-22T06:18:00.000-05:00

No justice in the mud...

I was watching the National Geographic Channel the other night, glued to a special about hippopotamus because I'm a big fan of the "river horse" which is what hippopotamus means in Greek (in case you ever wondered). At any rate, it was all going fine; the hippos were bobbing like fat apples in their watery oasis, when suddenly a baby hippo gets murdered for no reason by it's own dad. The father bit the baby in one violently unexpected chomp. Blood squirted everywhere and I coudn't believe my TV! The carcass of the infant went sailing down the river and the show ended as the narrator spoke calmly about "the way it is" in the world of the hippo. What this boils down to is that I don't like the circle of life. Specifically, I don't like watching animals get killed. I always thought that being a hippo would be a muddy and mellow day-spa sort of existence, but apparently life is a blood-bath in those rivers. I'm posting a photo of a living and breathing hippo in reaction to the dead baby one that just got crushed on my telly.

On the subject of nature, I've become a fan of the "enneagram" test. It's a form of psychological profiling that's being used so that human-beings can get a better sense of their idiosyncratic needs, personal dispositions and inner workings. Basically it groups people into one of nine personality types and then outlines your strengths and weaknesses and your overall ways of thinking and behaving. It's very pragmatic and not based on any hoodoo/cosmic mumbo-jumbo. So if you don't believe in astrology or clairvoyant gypsies or runes, it makes sense to believe in the enneagram test. Also, there's enneagram tests all over the internet. You can even take a good one right here: Click. I think that everyone should take the test, find out what number they are and then study what it means. For example, I'm a well-founded FOUR and that means I'm an emotionally complex loner.

Save the hippos,
Robert Maddock

The Aquabats are Here!!

2008-01-11T18:51:00.000-05:00

(but probably not for very long).

I promise to only like this band for five minutes.

Time's up.
RM

Films of 2007, There Was Blood

2008-01-09T17:16:00.000-05:00

My TOP TEN in the year of cinematic carnage

10. Ratatouille
9. Once
8. Year of the Dog
7. The Orphanage
6. No Country for Old Men
5. The Simpsons Movie
4. Grindhouse
3. Lars and the Real Girl
2. There Will Be Blood
1. Sweeney Todd

RM

Kicking Out '07 Like a Hell-bent Ninja

2007-12-31T13:00:00.000-05:00

Sayonara and Thank You

I'm posting a scan of the free coaster they gave me at the new TOKYO BAR on Church Street in Tribeca. Sitting in the "TB" is like sitting in Quentin Tarantino's psyche. It's posh, neon and sharp. Maybe even a little too sharp. Also, the bathrooms are amazing. I was in awe over the pop-art murals in the loo. Even if you don't have to poo, those bathrooms are worth and glance. Aside from the crapper, the whole place is a gilded Judo move. Here's some pictures.

So the year is over and I'm reflecting on the bygone highs and lows of it. 2007 was a tough-as-nails beast...even a gangrenous lizzard in my Froot Loops. I got more stitches this year than I've had in my life, passed a kidney stone and got a paper-cut on my favorite book of Haiku. It was also a year of penniless abandon. I barely bought anything on eBay. Bigwig know-it-alls reigned supreme. Projects haulted. Other projects became tediously extended. Tempers flared. The bank called. I lost my earmuffs. A seer told me I was Percy Bysshe Shelley in a previous life. I took a crappy job. So yeah, times were tough, but what's done is done. 2008 smells like a daisy casserole and I'm going back to the Tokyo Bar before they take down their trippy little Christmas tree.

Time heals all wounds.
Time wounds all heels.

-Robert

A Frosty Old Farmhouse in the Woods

2007-12-30T19:27:00.000-05:00

Photographed by R. Maddock

A couple of weeks ago I went up to the Catskills and found this ramshackle mansion in the snow. Normally I'm not into "wintery scenes" but I thought this was a really beautiful thing. Don't know why it resonated with me so much, but it did. It makes me think of a hideout for a serial-killer in the movie Fargo, but then again it could be a cushy roost for elves. Not sure what to make of it. All the windows were boarded-up except for that one way up at the top. (I feel like this could be my cue to make an analogy about people who are all boarded-up except for their highest window, but I'm not gonna do that). Just look at this frozen edifice and know that it exists in the Catskill Mountains, just north of NYC. All grim and merry and cozy and creepy at once.

warmly,
RM

Christmas in my Guts

2007-12-25T17:31:00.000-05:00

I got my gall-bladder removed just in time for the holidays. Good riddance. I always wanted to get that thing out of me. It was like a spare pinecone in my tree. Anyway, I'm writing a song now called, "You can cut me open and rip out my gall-bladder, but no one can take away my Christmas spirit." It'll be better than Jingle Bells.

Once again, Morphine saves the day.

Happy Holidays,
Robert Maddock

It's a Dolphin! It's a Lady! It's a...

2007-12-03T15:12:00.000-05:00

MERMAID. MERMAID. MERMAID. MERMAID. MERMAID.

It's that time of year again, folks. Today is the birthday of Daryl Hannah and here I go putting fish on my blog. Set sail on down and take a gander at my very latest TOP 10 list for December. This is it. TEN MERMAIDS. And no, there will never be a unicorn on here because this isn't that kind of blog. Seriously.

NOTE: to the good people of Denmark, please stop blowing-up and decapitating the one nice thing about your country.

Mermaids.
RM

"THE SMITHS" broke up 20 years ago...

2007-11-30T23:21:00.000-05:00

AND THEY'RE NOT COMING BACK

Trite & hokey fanatics of "The Smiths" will tell you to go listen to "THE QUEEN IS DEAD" or "MEAT IS MURDER" to get a bona fide dish of the band's jangly sarcasm and witty tales of a lovelorn Manchester. Trite & hokey ought to be the name of the fanclub for those leftover teenagers of 1985. It's true that The Smiths have a couple of heyday albums, which are offbeat and dead-on classics, but I say skip to the band's final recording and let "STRANGEWAYS, HERE WE COME" be the grim & glorious masterpiece that does you in. It's where rockabilly, big string arrangements, do-it-yourself rock and comatose girlfriends all get together for tea and indignation.

From the haunting, piano-riffing get-go of this album, I'm converted. My ears are stolen and my attention is sold. How can you ignore a record that kicks off with the lyrics, "I am the ghost of troubled Joe..." This album is a black & nasty friendship bracelet on the wrist of your sister. If The Smiths had stayed together, this would have been a brilliantly transitional slab of music for a band bent on offing the head of 80's pop. Over the years, critics have taken note that STRANGEWAYS is a decidedly death-themed project. All ten of the tracks are incessantly catchy and immaculately produced, which only makes the topics of murder and hospitals even more shiny & shocking. The songs "Death of a Disco Dancer" and "Death at One's Elbow" are obviously centered on macabre twists of fate, but even the plunky "Unhappy Birthday" goes to the morgue:

"I've come to wish you an Unhappy Birthday
Because you're evil and you lie
And if you should die, I may feel slightly sad
But I won't cry."

The Smiths are dead, but the ghost lives on.
Start here and it will all be alright.

all ways,
Robert M.

Bubby's takes a fall/FLOWERBOMB, etc...

2007-11-27T08:20:00.000-05:00

Did you hear the news about Bubby's? My favorite chow-haven in NYC is SHUT-DOWN for violating numerous health codes. This is almost a dining-calamity for people who enjoy all manner of superb grits. Apparently, Bubby was providing a behind-the-scenes crumb & butter banquet for bugs and rodents. It's hard to believe that all those picture-perfect pies and home-baked joys were basically dripping with rat poo, but I'm taking comfort in the fact that there's still a Bubby's in Brooklyn that isn't reportedly being farted on by ill-bred creatures. For those interested in the germ-laden details, here's the Rude Scoop on the Manhattan locale: Family-Oriented Pie Hashery Goes to Hell. Anyway, when all is said and done, if Brother Bubby re-opens his filthy hole I will go back and forget this whole thing ever happened. Vermin, begone!

I'm listening to a song called "Twist" by Goldfrapp. It's kinda swervy and dizzying and I bet everybody dug it once in London. I think I like it too. Watch the video right now. Okay, what did you think of the video? I don't like it, but I'm putting the song in an audio-file under the title: Funny Space Rubbish. Also, I just decided that this song reminds me of a lady named Janice.

Speaking of ladies, I smelled a good one yesterday on the subway. I said, "Hey, sweet-smelling lady, what is that perfume you've got on?" She looked at me and replied, "Flowerbomb" with an air of haughty pride in her stench. So I went home and looked it up on the world-wide-web and sure enough there is a perfume called Flowerbomb out there. And get this...the bottle is shaped like a grenade! I think that's the coolest thing I've encountered in the past three days. It goes without saying that perfume and murder is a winning combo. Yes, indeed!

So I'm writing a novel about a dairy farm community and some wretched, wretched things that happen therein. By using the word "wretched" twice just now, I was hoping to seem ominous and possibly spook you a little. Did it work? Anyway, in writing this book I'm putting a psychotic twist on the term "lactose intolerant." Aside from that, one of the main characters is named Wheeler Crow. And that's all I'm gonna say.

I'm still bummed about Bubby's.

-Robert

Happy Birthday Jodi Foster!

2007-11-19T09:02:00.000-05:00

I only share my birthday with Iris Steensma

"People who don't have nightmares don't have dreams."

"The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up."

yours truly,
RM

TV Theme Songs & Opening Credits!

2007-11-16T08:05:00.000-05:00

Ten Reasons to Feast Your Peepers on the Idiot Box

10. Pee-Wee's Playhouse

9. Gimme A Break

8. Land of the Lost

7. V

6. Electra Woman and Dyna Girl

5. Taxi

4. Scobby-Doo

3. The X-Files

2. Wonder Woman (season two)

1. Wonder Woman (season one)

And one for the road: Aloha!

-robert

I Wanna Be a Gum Buster!

2007-11-13T09:03:00.000-05:00

Another "dream job" in the City of New York

I was moseying down the street yesterday in my usual fashion when I noticed a van with the words GUM BUSTERS emblazoned on its side. Come to find out that there's also a website for this company in which "gum" gets "busted" by real-live tough guys with powerful tools. Now I'm asking myself, "Robert, why'd you go to college when you clearly could have become an NYC Gum Buster?" It's a serious bidniss and they've even ripped the gummy splotches off the sidewalk around Shea Stadium. Check out the website for Gum Busters of NYC and don't skip the amazing gum trivia that precedes the site's homepage. Oh yeah, and don't spit your filthy gum onto public property, you whore.

Here's a Before-and-After picture of what Gum Busters can do for your neighborhood. I've started noticing that those nasty black splotches really are everywhere. It's kind of amazing how those dirty, flattened gum stains don't budge. I would imagine that some of those gum splotches date back to the 1840's. Somebody should write a screenplay about Abraham Lincoln's DNA being extracted from a gum splotch.

A POEM ABOUT GUM SPLOTCHES...and you!

Can you relate
To downtrodden bubblegum,
Filthy and flattened on summertime's
baked pavement?

Trampled, lumpish concrete lesions.

Do you resemble
Blackened Bazooka--
Irremovable sidewalk blemishes,
Hardened like rubbishy calluses?

Durably sweetless pathway pocks.

Can you identify
With ejected tongue-rubbers,
A pedestrian's throwaway chewable
That lapsed of sugar too quickly?

Stiffened, flavorless boulevard-bandages.

Do you SMACK
of yesterday's elastic gourmet,
Now keeping thundering highways
From crumbling?

Unattractive, July-fried gutter blotches.

Can you relate
To onslaughts of juiceless debris--
Weathered wads of of pigeon-pecked
Avenue glue?

Permanently beautiless and ignored.

Chew it. Don't spew it.

always,
Robert Maddock

My New Belt Buckle

2007-11-05T09:47:00.000-05:00

To Keep My Pants Up, That's Why.

Ask me about my new belt buckle and I'll tell you how jealous you should be that you don't have one exactly like it. No trousers before mine have ever been upheld by a lovlier "M" in what appears to be fool's gold and the kind of enamel that kills mice in sicko lab tests. Watch out, world!

Robert-in-a-new-thing

All the Weirdest Things

2007-11-02T11:56:00.000-04:00

Mark Ryden=Freaky Genius

Not since Gary Baseman have I been this fixated on an artist. MARK RYDEN is my latest hero with a paintbrush and a sinister itch. He did the cover art for Michael Jackson's Dangerous as well as the vintage-looking illustration for The Red Hot Chili Pepper's One Hot Minute. Now Ryden is at the top of his wicked game with perky butcher shops, woodsy hoodoo, carnal urchins and all manner of sacreligious knickknacks. How can you not love the head of Santa Claus on a candy-striped worm?

"November is the limbo between pagans and elves."

cheerz!
Roberto

HALLOWEEN is Right Now

2007-10-31T07:35:00.000-04:00

October 31st and November 1st

I'm celebrating Halloween for two days this year instead of just one. It makes sense that Halloween ought to be a 2-day hoobajoo because "All Hallow's Eve" is Oct. 31st and "All Hallow's Day" is Nov. 1st. Any cat will tell you this is true. So how will I bring today's festival into the humdrum hours of tomorrow? I'm not sure yet, but I'm almost positive that it will invlove my jack-o'-lantern becoming a batch of pumpkin soup.

Doesn't ANYBODY miss Michael Jackson??

"Darkness falls across the land.
The midnite hour is close at hand.
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize your neighbourhood
And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpses shell.
The foulest stench is in the air,
The funk of forty thousand years
And grizzy ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom
And though you fight to stay alive,
Your body starts to shiver,
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of the Thriller."

-Robert

M & M & M & M & M & M

2007-10-24T13:29:00.000-04:00

M: Morrissey. Bless his soul. I went to the Moz concert at the Hammerstein Ballroom the other night and the old man went and sang "Death of a Disco Dancer" AND "Stop Me if You Think You've Heard This One Before." What this means is that the world is feeling sweeter than Christmas pie right now.

M: M*A*S*H. I finished my 6-week Robert Altman movie marathon. While the films Kansas City, Thieves Like Us, and 3 Women are my definite favorites, M*A*S*H somehow lands in the top ten. I thought watching this movie would feel like eating dirty, lint-covered yams. Wrong! I'm still humming the suicidal theme-song. Also, the ending of this movie is possibly the greatest ending of any movie I've ever seen.

M: Muppets. The rare "Muppet Valentine Special" is included in the Season Two DVD of the Muppet Show. Also, the humongous and scarcely seen blue ogre named "Thog" makes an appearance, as does a talking crumpet! Check it out!

M: Murakami. I just started reading "Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World" by Haruki Murakami. So far it's about brainwave tampering, a sewer-system in Tokyo, a village where visitors get their shadows cut off, and a guy who discovers prehistoric dreams imbedded in a unicorn's skull. Gee willikers!

M: Madonna. The album "Erotica" came out exactly 15 years ago this month. Kurt Loder called it a "sonic iceberg" and most critics agreed that every song on the frosty beast is at least one minute too long. Alas, it's my favotite Madonna record of all time (or maybe tied with "American Life"). Her name was Dita...

M: Mustard. It's good on many things.

M: Melanie. The best M of them all.

RE"M"

Eureka! I'm Discovering Things!

2007-10-17T09:47:00.001-04:00

EUREKA: AN EXCLAMATION USED AS AN INTERJECTION TO CELEBRATE A DISCOVERY.

Last week I found this picture of my grandma that I took in Hawaii at the Honolulu Zoo back in 1999. I insisted that she be photographed with the zoo's flamingoes in the background because she was crazy about flamingoes. So here it is...my sweet old dearly departed granny and some big pink chickens!

My friend Joe gave me a pack of candy cigarettes that he recently discovered at a vintage junkfood shop in SoHo. These are the real deals!! Not the fraudulent bubblegum variety. These are the offical, bona fide children's vice of the 50's in which make-believe-lung-cancer was all it took to make a kid smile.

I have dicovered that "Facebook" is much more interesting than MySpace. It must have happend in the wee hours of the night. Facebook has been utterly refurbished, revamped, remodeled and reinvented in every possible way. Basically, Facebook got a good facelift. When I come home from a hard day's work, this is where I wanna hang my hat. I even have a pet octopus now.

Falling in love with a chunk of plastic is not just the theme of a musical. It's the theme of a new movie called "Lars and the Real Girl." I saw this movie two days ago and I truly loved it. There's not an actor in the film who isn't absolutely outstanding and humanely amazing. Even the mannequin deserves a trophy for being so sad and still. Yes, plastic reigns supreme.

I'm in awe of this guy who paints animals on people's hands. As a child his cruel and fussy mother probably whipped him for not washing his filthy paws--and this is his brilliant revenge. I've seen his alligators, toucans, eagles and elephants, but the eye on this zebra looks real enough to wink.

It would be rude of me to forget to mention that yesterday was Oscar Wilde's birthday. So here's a quote from the worlds most eloquent sodomist.

"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination."

Words to live by.
R. Maddock

The Sauce is Boss

2007-10-10T11:51:00.000-04:00

A Joke, Some Vinegar and a Golden Bird

The famous "Mango Chili Vinegar" at Trader Joe's is SOOOO GOOOD that I actually went back and bought two more bottles of it the other day. Lately I've been infatuated with sauces and this is definitely the greatest sauce in the City of New York. I even like it on celery, which is pretty darn miraculous considering how I normally associate celery with date-rape and the holocaust. With all of that said, I think I might even prefer Trader Joe's "Mango Chili Vinegar" over the following joke...

Doctor Dave had slept with one of his patients and felt guilty all day long.

No matter how much he tried to forget about it, he couldn't. The guilt and sense of betrayal were overwhelming. But every now and then he'd hear an internal reassuring voice in his head that said:

"Dave, don't worry about it. You aren't the first medical practitioner to sleep with one of his patients and you won't be the last.... And you're single. Just let it go."

But invariably another voice in his head would bring him back to reality, whispering......

Dave.......

Dave........

Dave........

........you're a vet Dave.

I'm watching "Clash of the Titans" again and I just decided that my all-time-favorite robot in the world of "robots in cinema" has got to be Bubo, the gilded owl that the Gods send to Perseus as a mechanical sidekick. Bubo is basically R2-D2 in owl form. The picture above does him justice. Clearly, he's photogenic.

On the topic of movies, here's my TOP-10 HORROR FLICKS:

10. Misery
9. 28 Days Later
8. Halloween III Season of the Witch
7. Psycho (the original)
6. Poltergeist
5. Jaws II
4. The Ring
3. Eyes Without a Face
2. Carrie
1. The Shining

Hopefully this will be bloody gorgeous:

Halloween is in three weeks!
Wanna see an ugly Pumpkin?

Robert

When Bears Explode...

2007-10-03T12:45:00.000-04:00

Everyone keeps talking about the pigeon on YouTube that shoplifts a bag of chips and then goes outside and eats the chips. That's funny, but what's really funny is people and animals getting electrocuted.

This next one kills me. Just because you know all about the succulence of grapes doesn't mean that you're above the laws of death. (I think a dewdrop touched his microphone). Unlike the bear above, I believe this man may have died.

Watch the guy with the banana!

Thank you, electricity!

-robert

TEN of my New Favorite Words

2007-09-29T14:12:00.000-04:00

A Funky Phantasmagoria of Utterances

Hey there, Chasmophiles and Poltroons! I'm reading this book called "The Disheveled Dictionary: A Curious Caper Through Our Sumptuous Lexicon." The book is waggish and saucy, not to mention agile and ribald! It makes me want to call someone a raddled scrag or a wambling claque. With that said, here are 10 words that I'm adding to my vocabulary:

10. Scrag--a scrawny, boney person
9. Chasmophile--a seeker of nooks & crannies
8. Fripperous--gaudy forms of display
7. Wamble--to move in a wobbling manner
6. Maelstrom--a massive whirlpool
5. Rusticate--to go or live in the country
4. Unbosom--to reveal one's feelings
3. Poltroon--a wretched coward
2. Dulcify--to sweeten, soften or soothe
1. Callipygian--having beautifully proportioned buttocks

XO
RM

One Step Closer to Crazy

2007-09-27T12:52:00.000-04:00

Pictures of an Iconis & Maddock Variety Hour

That's All Folks!
Robert Maddock

Morphine Popsicles

2007-09-25T13:07:00.000-04:00

ME: My dog is becoming famous.
KARAH: I hate dogs. I don't care if he's famous or not.
ME: How's your broken back? Have you ever taken morphine?
KARAH: yes!!! I love morphine!!! I had it in the ambulance two times and after my spleen surgery. I love how it shoots through your veins and feels all cool and tingly!
ME: I'm eating some morphine right now in popsicle form. The kids on the street sell them here for five bucks a pop. My legs are numb.
KARAH: I get my MRI tomorrow to see if my back is really broken. I hope it is! How cool would that be! But me and my family have a trip planned at a San Diego resort next week so I hope I can go WHAT?????!!!! a morphine popsicle? Are you lying to me?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
ME: No!
KARAH: SHUT UP! Can you taste the morphine?? THIS IS INSANE! Why didn't you tell me about this when I was in New York? My back was in so much pain. I would have bought a ton! You bastard!
(time elapses)
KARAH: Are you there?
ME: Yes! I'm here. I'm laughing so hard! There is no such thing as a morphine popsicle! YOU KILL ME!
KARAH: I HATE YOU! I told everyone in the office about it. I can't tell my co-workers it was a lie now.
ME: No. You just have to invent them now. You can do it! Morphine Popsicles!
KARAH: Shut up!
ME: Hey did you know that Mount Rushmore is a natural phenomena? All those faces of the Presidents were formed by GLACIERS over millions of years. Science just announced this. Tell your co-workers!

-robert

The ICONIS & MADDOCK Variety Hour

2007-09-17T09:33:00.000-04:00

Tricks'n Tunes: Making Merry & Throwing a Duck Fit

SAVE THE DATE! Monday Sept. 24th at 8:00

THE ICONIS AND MADDOCK VARIETY HOUR: Songwriters Joe Iconis and Robert Maddock invite you to come and take a gander at the gooses they've been cooking. A spasmodic and gadget-laden concert of your favorite Iconis-Maddock tunes, featuring special celebrity guests, animal acts, ghosts, confetti (definitely), bubbles (probably), full frontal nudity (not really) and an offensive amount of twinkling Christmas Lights. So snuggle into your favorite pea-green papson chair, fix yourself a double-helping of Aunt Geraldine's famous Jell-o mold, and prepare to be rocked and shocked by an evening more electrifying than a blow-dryer in a bathtub. Directed by John Simpkins.

ALL DETAILS RIGHT HERE:
The Iconis & Maddock Variety Hour
Ars Nova 511 W. 54th St. @ 10th Ave.
Monday Sept. 24th at 8:00 ($20)
Buy tickets in one of these easy ways:
Call the good folks at NYMF (212) 352-3101
Go online here at the NYMF website

Peace & Peas,
Robert Maddock

Off My Rocker & On My Game

2007-09-12T17:22:00.000-04:00

The house is mad, but the dog is tame!

I got a brand new rocking chair last week and this is it (pictured above). The small brown creature seated in the chair is my chihuahua, Fritz. It goes without saying that I'm in love with a careening seat. I also recently came across this vintage edition of the board game Candyland (pictured below). My favorite thing about these old editions of Candyland is that they proudly boast the subtitle: A SWEET LITTLE GAME FOR SWEET LITTLE FOLKS. How sweet is that?

Several people have emailed me and asked when there will be another "Triumphant Baby" show. The answer is that I don't know, but Stay Tuned because I will always announce TB Shows on this Blog in advance. With that said (and in celebration of a truly fun-filled run of concerts at The York) I'm finally posting this graphic image, designed by myself and Sir Joe Iconis. I'm crazy about this happy flapper. Others weren't so crazy about her, but Ritzy Lulu is laughing all the while.

Ciao, babies!
RM

Bad Shark, Good Puppet

2007-09-11T20:01:00.000-04:00

My brother sent me the above photograph a couple of weeks ago and I still haven't fully recovered. When I look at this picture, I can remember my mother warning me as a child, saying wisely, "Never stand on a flimsy rope-ladder between a helicopter and the sea." Anyway, what this photo doesn't show you is that right after the picture was taken, the shark ATE the entire helicopter. Hore-if-eye-ing!!

Not so Horrifying:

The other day I was talking about actresses and who would be the perfect actress to cast in a new play that a friend of mine wrote--and I suggested Madeline Kahn. Sadly though, she's not going to be able to do it because she's dead. All that's left of Madeline Kahn are mildewed Playbills and this YouTube clip that I'm obsessed with right now, starring Grover "Fuzzbutt" McDaniels. Watch this video and be cured of all sadness. I don't think I've seen a more endearing duo since those old "Virgin & Child" paintings.

warmly,
Robert M.

Triumphant Baby! Final Performance

2007-08-28T18:19:00.000-04:00

At the York Theatre. Sept. 10th. Lisitza Prevails!!

I'm truly proud of my friend Lorinda Lisitza. With all the spunk of a vintage showgirl, she took thirteen grubby little songs and put them on like audio boots and bustiers. When I wrote these songs with Joe Iconis I knew they were good, but Lorinda has taken them to a rare and bubbly land of bizarre excitement. I feel thankful to be working with her and I'm proud to be the first person who ever deemed her a cult broad.

Did you know that Lorinda hearkens to the cosmos? She not only reads her horoscope; she often reads mine. She tells me about the promising things that are at work in the stars, but today's example of a "promising thing" is not an astrological sign. It's a quote by a critic from NEXT and here it is:

"And why not see seriously talented singer/actress/bombshell Lorinda Lisitza in Triumphant Baby: The Songs of Iconis & Maddock in its off-Broadway transfer at The York. A sizzling showcase for the ‘best-kept-secret’ in New York cabaret, Lisitza does for Iconis & Maddock what Liza did for Kander & Ebb…and in fabulous leopard heels she knows how to work."

I have this vision of Lorinda juggling a bunch of her own heads. As a performer she has the most fantastic flair for switching gears in terms of showing off multiple personalities. From one song to the next, she goes from being a wispy faintheart to a callous killer to an Irish rabble-rouser. The following 10 pictures remind me of some of the "ladies" I see galloping through Lorinda's veins during the show.

It's kind of amazing what happens when you hand a microphone to a girl from Pocupine Plain. The bird sings. Lorinda, if you are reading this--you are a pistol and a petunia. You are a frilly dame with a yo-yo. You are the Mink Stole to my John Waters. If you are reading this and you are not Lorinda, please remove your nose from other people's business.

Wanna See Joe and Lorinda talk?

TRIUMPHANT BABY!
The Songs of Iconis & Maddock
Starring LORINDA LISITZA!
Monday: September 10th, at 8:00
The York Theatre Company
(the theatre at St. Peter's Church)
54th St.--just east of Lexington Ave.

For tickets call the York Theatre at (212) 935-5820, or click here and buy tickets on the York Theatre's website. Also, visit my website and MySpace for more details and to hear a few songs from the show.

To learn a little about the history of Triumphant Baby, here's a beautiful review from BroadwayWorld.com!

xo
Robert Maddock

Saturday Night's Alright for Writing

2007-08-18T19:44:00.000-04:00

Nothing much to say, but let's see what happens if I just type for a minute or two without stopping. I've got some unexpected time on my hands this evening and I don't feel like watching Torndo videos on YouTube, which is how I murdered many dull hours while temping last week in the role of a front desk receptionist. As a temporary employee, I specialized in hanging up on company bigwigs! Anyhoo, it's a rather bluesy Saturday Night in my apartment right now. I feel like the end of this summer is literally hanging in the air like an invisible street sign. It's been a summer of great highs and lows and many-sided feelings. It's amazing how different my apartment feels without my dog. (My dog is out of town at the moment). Suddenly I'm craving a taco salad. I guess I'll watch one tornado clip and chalk this up to my lamest blog entry ever!

Robert "Stormy McGee" Maddock

Happy Birthday MADONNA

2007-08-16T06:25:00.000-04:00

It's not everyday that you turn 49

Hey Kids! Get a load of this! The following are Nonexistent Madonna Albums! These are so rare. These are NOT COMING SOON!

Laser Beam Cream Puff
Whore of Babylon
Kiss and Tell
The No Apology Anthology
Queen of Pop
Songs for the End of the World
The Symphonic Funk Experiment
Airborne
Love & War
Goddess Rock

Cheers!
RM

Fork & Spoon

2007-08-15T09:40:00.000-04:00

TEN places to Chow Down in NYC

10. Mooncake Foods (spicy sauces=yummy magic)
9. Casa La Femme North (Whoa! Egyptian grub)
8. Burger 67 (simply the grandest burgers in New York)
7. Lyric Diner (for good vibes and sandwiches)
6. Jing Fong (the circus meets dim sum)
5. Bonobo's (try the pink bell pepper smoothies)
4. Jekyll and Hyde (eat while being scared!)
3. Churrascaria Plataforma (gnaw on Brazil)
2. Rice to Riches (the Russian Tea Room of pudding)
1. Bubby's (killer hushpuppies & creaky floorboards!)

Eat it!
RM

TORNADO ATTACK! A Tree Falls in Brooklyn

2007-08-14T09:51:00.001-04:00

Don't Mock the Wind

Murderous Breezes!! Last week a tornado touched down in a neighborhood near mine (here in Brooklyn, New York). The storm was recorded as being an extreme level two twister on the Fujita Scale. Now I can use the expression, "Blown to Smithereens" with all the grim seriousness of a Goonie! Anyone who knows me can imagine how excited I am by this brand of wind. Even the whirlpool over the drain in my bathtub is cause for enthrallment in my world, so this actual, real-life cyclone is a grand omen and a wink from God. It uprooted over 200 trees, shattered windows, crushed dozens of cars, forced 30 families from their homes, slapped a hooker and demolished the roof of an auto dealership. Good thing it didn't make off with my chihuahua! After the storm, I had to hike across the Manhattan Bridge to get into the city because the subways were a flooded mess. Alas, the weather is no prissy Brenda.

2 the clouds!
RM

TRIUMPHANT BABY @ The York!!

2007-07-30T16:33:00.000-04:00

THE SONGS OF ICONIS & MADDOCK

(click to enlarge)

LIMITED ENGAGEMENT: 4 Mondays at the York Theatre in New York City! Aug. 13th, 20th, 27th and Sept. 10th.

TRIUMPAHNT BABY stars Lorinda Lisitza, a saucy chanteuse extraordinaire in a tight black dress. The concert is a sizzling gallery of songs by tune-makers Iconis & Maddock. Joe Iconis wrote the music and I wrote the lyrics in a mad effort to celebrate murderesses, love-gone-wrong, and tumbleweeds. Directed by Brad Oscar, the evening features the background vocal charms of Liz Lark Brown and Tanya Holt. Matt Wigton will prevail on bass. Matt Hinkley practically juggles the mandolin, guitar and the accordion. Joe Iconis will be armed with a piano, a melodica and a kazoo!

See the softer-side of the lady...

If a chocolate-covered strawberry could belt & croon (and show a bit of cleavage), this concert would be that strawberry. In fact, I will go on record as saying this show is an avalanche of strawberries. Show-stoppers include "One Step Closer to Crazy" and "Matilda McDort: A Hairstyle on Trial." Don’t miss the award-winning ode to a lovelorn cowgirl, "Almost (99 I-Love-You's)." TRIUMPHANT BABY is a bubbly and shape-shifting concert of stories about an ambitious lady’s climb and hard-hitting fall down a ladder of love, heartbreak, criminal digressions and semi-psychotic rampages. Highlights of the show include twisted tales of Hollywood and real accounts of berserk love--all told through huge & poppable songs written by yours truly and a good man named Joe. If that doesn't perk your interest, then please check out this review!

Behold the rage...

Tickets for TRIUMPHANT BABY are $20. That's twenty bucks if you like your numbers all spelled out. All shows start at 8:00. For tickets call the York Theatre at (212) 935-5820, or click here and enter the website that will bestow you with much info. Also, visit my website and MySpace for more details and more songs.

Yeah!!
Robert

Popcorn-balls and Beyond

2007-07-24T13:27:00.001-04:00

The popcorn-balls are ripe at my house. Last night I spent many-a-fine-hour in my kitchen while making a triple-batch of these cherry babies. I think popcorn-balls are truly glorious to behold. They look like cartoon asteroids and I feel pretty strongly that more foods should look like cartoons.

Balls aside, I've recently been stricken by two unfortunate happenings that I'm referring to as "The Summer Downers." They aren't full-fledged downers (like cancer or date rape) but they are downers and they've put a small dent in my recreations for July.

Summer Downer A: The wildest theatrical event of the summer was a dirty little kitchen-centered masterpiece called THE BUTCHER OF BARABOO and it didn't even get an extension. How could anyone give a bad review to a play in which the stage was literally wrapped in butcher paper *and* in which a woebegone lesbian pharmacist pours Dr. Pepper on her Froot Loops?

Summer Downer B: Morrissey cancelled at Madison Square Garden. Big frikkin surprise, right? At least the hostility on his chat forums is at an all-time priceless level of fury. I'm beginning to realize that Moz fans are the inventors of a strange brand of profanity. Check it out. The hilarious new forms of swear-words on those boards are sick jewels.

Here's my TOP 10 List for July: THE MOST LISTENED-TO SONGS ON MY IPOD RIGHT NOW:

10. Soul Meets Body/Death Cab for Cutie
9. Listen Up!/The Gossip
8. A Spoonful Weighs a Ton/The Flamimg Lips
7. No Cars Go/Arcade Fire
6. Hey You/Madonna
5. Nice Weather for Ducks/Lemon Jelly
4. Hold On, Hold On/Neko Case
3. Steady As She Goes/The Raconteurs
2. Burnin' For You/Blue Oyster Cult
1. Absolutely No Decorum/The Ark

This just in: Dita Von Teese is now taking actual orders for signed and personalized autographs WITH A KISS on her website in the "Dita's Sweetshop" section.

And here's my Cherry Popcorn-ball recipe.

Ingredients:
2 cups of light corn syrup
1 cup of sugar
1 package (8 serving size) of Cherry Jell-O
18 cups of popcorn (about two microwavable bags)

Steps:
1. Mix corn syrup and sugar in saucepan; bring to a boil. Remove from heat. Add Jell-O. Stir until disolved.
2. Pour mixture over popcorn. Let stand for several minutes. Shape into balls. Cool.

cheers always,
Robert Maddock

Two Decades of Tango by FM

2007-07-21T13:37:00.000-04:00

Celebrating the bewitching onyx of 80's pop/rock

I just want to announce that one of my all-time-favorite albums is turning 20 this summer. That album would be TANGO IN THE NIGHT by Fleetwood Mac. Time is a sickeningly speedy bird. After hearing "Little Lies" for the first time on the radio, I said, "Mom. We have to go to the mall right now." Seems like yesterday, but that was in '87! Most Mac fans call RUMOURS the band's highpoint, but for exactly one dozen reasons I prefer TANGO--and those reasons are songs 1 through 12.

TANGO IN THE NIGHT is a mind voyage laced with tropical dangers and sweet-tempered hexes. I love how the cover-art conveys the drums and the crickets and all the sonic beasties that lie beneath the surface of this record. Also, I confess that I tweaked and renamed my blog as a tribute to the "jungle-nocturne" appeal of this album. Mac's dark and dazzling gem.

I KEEP THE DREAM IN MY POCKET
NEVER LET IT FADE AWAY
INSIDE, OUTSIDE
NO LONELINESS IN THIS DREAM

THEN I REMEMBER
WHEN THE MOON WAS FULL AND BRIGHT
I WOULD TAKE YOU IN THE DARKNESS
AND DO THE TANGO IN THE NIGHT
TANGO...

RM

I say Squid

2007-07-17T21:37:00.000-04:00

I don't like the word "calamari" because the word "squid" is so much more forthright and gritty. Today I told a waitress that I wanted some squid and she looked so repulsed. So squeamishly dismayed. Anyway, while I ate my squid I couldn't help but think about the giant one that was photographed not too long ago in Japan. I want to believe that the bottom of the ocean is crawling with elphantine "calamari."

Take that, waitress!

(SEE THE BIG SQUID HERE).

-robert

UNVEILING THE BEAST

2007-07-13T14:41:00.001-04:00

My Blog gets a Neon Tattoo and a Face-Lift

I took two weeks off from blogging and now I'm back with a hankering for hippo. This morning I decided to abolish the old red blog and do the electric Congo! Gone is the stuffy, hot air of "old blog" and in comes the fat, chrome degenerate. Here she is, inspired by the neon lighting of a cheap motel. THE SILVER HIPPO, at your service! This is no place for milquetoasts.

When I was a little kid, I collected hippo figurines with an obsessive fervor. By the time I was twelve I owned over a hundred of them. All kinds: glass, wood, brass, porcelain. I even had a small jade hippo from China and a big hippo-shaped cookie jar made of terracotta! I guess you could say I was an irrepressible hippo statuette junkie. Why am I telling you this? Well, there's no important reason, but I was just thinking how funny it would be if I lied (a dirty blog-lie) and said that a hurricane came and shattered all those hippos along with my entire hometown and family. That would be a considerably huge lie. And with that said, this blog will probably never be much of a tear-jerker.

MUSIC update: I'm writing an odd load of songs this summer. Odd loads and gobs of songs! Actually, I wrote what might possibly be the best song that I've ever written. My friend Joe set it to music. The title of it is "Dinosaurs" and it's got lots of road references in it. I love roads in songs. Also, Joe Iconis and I are preparing to embark on our very first "run" of a show we wrote last year. I shouldn't jump-the-gun and announce this quite yet, but here's a generous CLUE.

Someone should cover that 80's song called "Africa" by the band Toto. I keep humming that song because I don't know the words (except for the word "Africa"). It's a good song and it matches all the current celebrity infatuation with adopting ill babies and getting dusty in poor villages while filming documentries about water shortages and pygmy anorexia. Yeah, I definitely think Coldplay should revive this song:

Anyway, several people have told me that I will love this new Irish movie called "Once" so I guess I'm gonna go watch some people from Dublin fall in love. And speaking of movies, I just watched a seriously wicked 60's cult flick called "Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill!" Talk about deadly kittens! That is one feisty film! Also, I'm pretty sure that one of my next blog entries will have something to do with cherry-flavored Jell-O popcorn-balls. So stay tuned. It's a big deal when I start ranting about balls.

check it!
www.robertmaddock.com

Luv,
Roberto M.

GRUB STREET HARVEST

2007-06-29T11:47:00.000-04:00

The 10 Writers I Love the Most

10. Anthony Burgess must have been plugged into a very poweful muse when he harnessed the vision to write the all time greatest book-that-became-a-film. I will never cease to be amazed by the sick and violent splendors of the one and only, eyelid-pinching cult novel: A Clockwork Orange. Cheers to a masterpiece! And long live those lethal droogs!

9. Saki wrote short stories that were based on his childhood skirmishes with an abusive aunt. Like I always say, if you have an abusive aunt, grow up and write scathing accounts of that mean old cow. Some of Saki's books are published under his real name, which was H.H. Munro (the coolest name to ever be changed to a crappy pseudonym).

8. Sandra Bernhard probably won't go down in history as an important wordsmith, but in my book (or at least on my blog) she is an utterly venomous poet. Her "diary entry" style of writing is filled with sad truths and lonely storms. I refer to her a lot. In fact, her three books are among the most dilapidated things that I own.

7. Wally Lamb wrote "She's Come Undone" and "I Know this Much is True" and those two books actually changed my life. This man is the ultimate storyteller. When you finish reading a Wally Lamb novel, you come out of a trance and realize that you just visited the heart and soul of everyone alive.

6. Arthur Rimbaud was a naughty French kid who ran away from home at the age of fifteen and joined an anarchist movement in Paris. After being raped by drunken soldiers he became an intense writer, specializing in odes to whores. He died young, shortly after having his leg amputated. A tortured genius.

5. Jessica Tarahata Hagedorn is a gritty hellcat with a pen. When I read her book Dogeaters, I could smell the Philippines rising off the pages. Her witchery smacks of gardenias and gasoline. She's a spanking playwright too!

4. Shel Silverstein is my barefooted hero and one of my rhyme idols. I think he's the duke of imagination and I don't think that anything would exist without him. I'll bet he gives God lots of good ideas.

3. Charles Bukowski was a crotch poet. He wrote over 50 books and I'm ashamed of how many of them I DON'T own. I'm looking through one of his books right now and this page here says, "It was a splendid day in Spring and outside we could hear the birds that hadn't been killed by the smog." Charlie was a dusty pervert, a vagabond, an ex-mailman and one wise old drunk.

2. Patricia Highsmith wrote about the sick dangers beneath seemingly normal people. I have all 31 of her books, but I try not to read more than one or two of them a year because it's going to be a sad day when there's none left to read. So far my favorites are: Cry of the Owl, Edith's Diary, The Price of Salt, and A Dog's Ransom.

1. Franz Kafka was the master of human puzzles and conundrums. I read The Metamorphosis as a a Senior in high school and that's when I knew that I was going to be a writer. Now I can't read Kafka without feeling like his ghost is looking over my shoulder. Half the writers on this list are dead, but only Franz keeps me paying attention to the sway of the drapes.

Sorry Roald Dahl. You're number eleven.

writers!
RM

Moondance, Ditto and Shocking Pickles!

2007-06-22T09:38:00.000-04:00

So the sad and ugly rumors have been confirmed. It was announced on the news a few nights ago that the Moondance diner on 6th Ave. and Broome St. is finally shutting its chrome doors this summer. Folks, this is not a good tiding. In fact, if you enjoy a dirty spoon and a slanty floor, it's bad news through and through. When I first came to New York in the winter of 1999, I used to sit in the Moondance and fill out cruddy job applications while wondering what would happen. So for old time's sake I visted the Moondance yesterday to ponder stuff and flick croutons off my salad, when all of a sudden a small waitress set the record straight. She said the diner is supposed to close in Septemeber, but there's still hope! Don't you just love Hope?

I saw Beth Ditto in concert this week. (Notice how I just dissed her band). Beth is a Titan. The last thing she needs is a band. Anyway, I was 100% blown away by this hussy's lungs! Ditto lays down the law of killer dyke pipes. "Standing in the Way of Control" is a furious middle-finger to convention and when that boundless, stage-squashing cyclone sings in front of you live, it's enough to dismantle the frikkin' roof. Interestingly enough, Beth Ditto eats squirrels (literally). In fact, here's what she said about the act of digesting woodsy critters..."I did eat squirrels when I was a kid. People in Arkansas just do--they'd think you were a freak if you ate squid there!" And there you have it. How can anyone not adore a sweet bird like that?

For a number of boring reasons I've decided to ban junkfood from my kitchen, which means it's been a sugarless summer *AND* the summer of abundant pickle consumption. I find that any midnight hankerings for a fudgsicle can be easily thwarted by a Vlasic feast. And while we're on this subject, I'll confess that I've been addicted lately to the strange library of "pickle electrocution" videos that are all over YouTube. Apparently, it's every man's deepest desire to make a pickle glow. Having tried this at home a few months back, I find it fascinating to see how other dudes apply their Dr. Frankenstein techniques to a juicy dill. With that said, this video beats them all. Well, it doesn't "beat them all" but it makes me laugh.

FATHER JOHN ZAPS A BIG ONE

COMING SOON: My Top 10 for JUNE!

-Robert

The Silver Hippopotamus

Kitschy Barnacles & The Pup That Bled

DURAN DURAN (Totally Forever)

All THAT I'M NOT LETTING GO OF

SMITHEREENS!!

All THAT I'M NOT LETTING GO OF

Parton Forever!

All THAT I'M NOT LETTING GO OF

My Blog is Two Years Old!

I'm Throwing My Arms Around This Album

2008 Movies

Break My Stride!

HAPPY NUDE YEAR!

ONE DAY: To The New Year!

TWO DAYS: To The New Year!

THREE DAYS: To The New Year!

137 2nd Ave. NY, NY 10003

Save the Mermaids!

Zinnwaldite Love

DANGER BABY!

Holy Saint Bon Jovi...

Sign of the Lines

gee willikers, it's Halloween...

Welcome To The Pie Hole!

Unabashed Hogwash

"Zesty Color Choices"

Electra Woman & Dyna Girl

Periwinkle Blue

Uncouth Newsflash

Hot Plastic Hippie Magic

Follow the Strawberry Blond

Missing Granny Photo Uncovered!

It's British Invasion Day!

Calling 311

Breakfast In Hell

The Great Road Powwow of '08

*Happy Birthday*

Clowns and Bikers

Toe-Eating Dachshunds (On My Mind)

The Gory Know-How and the Tools!

Everything & Diddly-Squat:

Heart Songs

THE BLACK SUITS!!!

Madonna Eats Gold

Drowning in Japanese Punch

Do You Flume?

"Elbows Anchored..."

Bergstrom Freakshow!

All in the Name of a Dog's Toenails

FIGS & JUICE: a tale of horrific coincidence

Polishing my Bandrat Jargon

13 Lempickas

The Lady Who Sat on Her Toilet for 2 Years

DEVIL MONKEY

Hey! It's April First!

to speak...and then to die

Pettigrew Prevails

The *BEST* Blonde Joke of ALL TIME!!

Happy Birthday, Blog!

Sleep Won't Come...

The Vagabond

(Be my) Turpentine Valentine

Hamster Mansion!

Where to Buy Good Soup

Keep Your Dead Baby Hippo to Yourself

The Aquabats are Here!!

Films of 2007, There Was Blood

Kicking Out '07 Like a Hell-bent Ninja

A Frosty Old Farmhouse in the Woods

Christmas in my Guts

It's a Dolphin! It's a Lady! It's a...

"THE SMITHS" broke up 20 years ago...

Bubby's takes a fall/FLOWERBOMB, etc...

Happy Birthday Jodi Foster!

TV Theme Songs & Opening Credits!

I Wanna Be a Gum Buster!

My New Belt Buckle

All the Weirdest Things

HALLOWEEN is Right Now

M & M & M & M & M & M

Happy Birthday

The BEST Blonde Joke of ALL TIME!!