One might indeed wonder, from the gruesome photo, WHAT the hell she is...man, woman or some medical compromise.
Aside from the whimsy of Photoshop, you might indeed figure that in another 30 years, this awful bag might look like Caitlyn Jenner.
So who'd want to BUY this? A fat fag who needs EVERYTHING for his collection, just like he needs about 40 pounds of extra flab on his body and jowls that would embarrass an obese chipmunk with a mouthful of nuts.
Well, yes, Robin WOULD want a mouthful of nuts. The hairy scrotal kind.
But in the spirit of "say something nice about a big fat bootlegging bozo," I'll say that it's SOMEWHAT useful (not a lot) that there's a blogger who will upload just about any stupid piece of shit he chewed on.
If you have a morbid curiosity about the worst of Matt Monro, or if "Parrot Face" sounds as bad as he looks, or if THIS monster has any talent in doing disco, there you are. A FREEEEEE DOWNLOAD.
You don't even have to leave a nice comment.
You do have to ignore the very autistic writing of this fool, who is like Rain Man, and seems to only know:
"I went to a boot sale. I like to go to boot sales. Boot sales are where I go. This boot sale did not have the bigness I remember. The boot was smaller. It was a small boot. I do not like small boot sales. I did buy 250 records. I have a lot of money to waste. I ask if the records did not chart. Then I pout and stare as I check to make sure there are not a lot of scratches, and then I pile them up. I tell the seller I will take them. I do not smile. I do not say a word about this garbage I have just bought. I just haul them into my arms and clutch them with my grubby plump paws, and drag them to my car and take them home with me. I play them for nobody. I upload them for strangers. This is my life."
Something like that. Only he doesn't make as much sense, does he?
For the record, before Barbara made her two awful disco singles, she made an album. The only GOOD news about it, is that LARD OF THE FRUIT CAKES doesn't have it. Too fuckin' bad, fatty.
I have it. Too bad for ME. A review of it appears in a very fine book on comedy records. Barbara got ONE star, and the brilliant critic duly noted, "In 1976 Long Islander Markay self-pressed this studio record of coy, pandering sex songs...she bangs on the piano like a punkette on drugs and howls doggerel. Sometimes it's one phrase yelled over and over ("Give Your Dick To Me"). Other times it's muddled nonsense lyrics: "Clark Kent had a cock of steel. Said to Lois Lane, Lois how does it feel? She says Why just grand, feels just like Superman. Cock my doodle do doodle-oh! And I will fondle you!"
There's the difference between a drone and a genius. The genius collects records, interviews the performers, and gets paid to review them. The drone just sits on his fat oft-fucked ass and stares at his dinky turntable and blinks like a retarded owl. He waits for the digitised version to pop up on his stinky laptop, and then he writes a sullen selfish sentence or two about how "it did not chart" and that's that. There's never any joy or emotion to what he does. That's because he's an autistic old homo.
This is someone who can post a picture of a gruesome bitch and NOT even make a joke about her idiotic pose. No, he just posts everything with the same robotic blandness. I DON'T HAVE IT SO I WILL BUY IT FOR MY COLLECTION. I HAVE UPLOADED IT. IT DID NOT CHART.
He almost never even shows idle curiosity about the artist. If he ever asks a question (for the two or three nerds who actually leave a comment now and then) it's related to the year the record may have been recorded, or what brand of paper was used on the label, or if there was both a mono and stereo version.
The only people who seem to care about this retard are the boot sale hucksters who laugh as they unload garbage on him, and the male prostitutes who shut their eyes and think of the money when he blows them.
Do I wish Robin gets AIDS with EBOLA? That would be unkind. Why leave out the ZIKA VIRUS?
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