Flaming Shits and Viley Virus fuck up The Beatles

A few nights ago, I thought, OK, I won't turn off Jimmy Kimmel now...I'll wait for the so-called "Flaming Lips" to do their TRIBUTE to Sgt. Pepper.

What I saw was visual barf. And audio crap. Since I left the rock world years before these assholes arrived, I was under no obligation to keep up with them, or other dopey bands. I vaguely knew they were avant-fag, but what I saw was so excessive, pretentious, and just plain lousy, I switched it off in DISGUST.

There are ways to be amusing while being a faggot, an asshole, a pretentious artiste, or all three. The Lips simply failed. They weren't helped by singing one of the most annoying of The Beatles' songs. It does take a putz like Ringo to make it work. It's basically a song that can only be sung by a nerd who needs all the help he can get, and knows it. Even if he resents it.

Instead, everybody was in stupid-looking costumes (I guess this band always does that) and were posturing like it was the Mad Hatter's tea party. The words, the essence of the song was totally lost.

A few days later, comes the "news" that Viley Virus went on Conan O'Brien's show, with the very same Fetid Drips, to assault "Lucy in the Sky." YES, she stuck out her tongue. YES, she looked ridiculous. YES, the combo of her and the old poof was utterly obnoxious. They looked like what they were...an awful cover band. How the Flaming Drips, a has-been bunch of glam rock dimwits (aren't they?) managed to get a bunch of stars to join in this mindless cover-tribute thing, I have no idea. This bunch, the Bonzo Fag Band are that legendary?

Or do we have the usual dodge of, "Come on, support these rich pop star pretenders, they're doing it for CHARITY...they're not getting anything out of it besides tons of publicity."

In the course of burbling about this miserable atrocity in the name of charity and The Beatles, one website reviewer delved into a previous Viley Virus effort. Oh, ha ha ha, let's make fun of John F. Kennedy being shot in the head.

Yes, I've included Viley doing "Lucy in the Sky," with her tongue hanging out. Old habits never die.

Really, isn't it easy for anyone to "write psych?" You know what I mean. Hey man, imagine a giant electric banana, throbbing brightly with yellow light, writing "SNOT" in the sky, in day-glo green, which then melts into stars, and the stars turn into the Ukraine Symphony Orchestra and Choir, who join Gary Brooker dressed as a goat (or already a goat) as he sings "Conquistador" and all the violins turn into snarling dogs. The dogs then fight with the miniature dwarf conquistadors who have morfed from the trumpets. Putin appears, but is banished by a gigantic Wheetabix, as Viley Virus, wearing a stick-on mustard plaster over her cunt, consumes the Rolling Stones tongue emblem which was made out of a large savaloy. She then sticks her own tongue out and drools, drowning the first four rows of seats..."

Blah and Blah and Blah. Kewl, duuuuude.

Next time go do a tribute to Madonna's Greatest Hits, Mr. Flaming and your awful little boyfriend Viley. Leave The Beatles alone.