Wet Knee James - Begging out in the Cold

Yesterday was a bright cold day. Wet Knee sat on a bench in front of her apartment to do what? It looks like our lollipop-headed bubble-lipped punkette is trying to bum a fag. 

It looks that way, but Robin the Verger walked right by, because a) he didn't have a smoke on him, and b) he was thinking about banging a fag in the bum at the Pleasuredome. 

SO...it turns out that Wet Knee James is actually counting down the Xmas days, and urging people to SUPPORT THE ARTIST and BUY THE ALBUM.

Why she chose such a FLATTERING pose, I have no idea. 

Sorry, Wet Knee.

It's not that I'm cruel, like that weird self-important misogynist stalker who has a Wordpress blog devoted to hating you. 

I just don't know if your album is WORTH it. After all, it has no songs by Elvis Costello on it, but more important than that: 

I have not seen it unboxed by Darren the Lox. How do I know if I'll be capable of opening the envelope if I don't see somebody else do it first??

I also rely on Darren, so much like the "average asshole," with no writing credits or taste, to tell ME his opinion, grimacing and whispering like he's constipated. He IS full of shit. 

You know, these days, the most important critics don't work for newspapers. They sit on their asses and shove their fat faces into a camcorder and blabber through their blubber on GOOTUBE. 

I also haven't seen a review by that German Ace, the notorious Eat-and-Lick-Her Horstmanure. Mr. Horstmanure dresses up in a nice clean white shirt and a tie, while never trimming his beard or trying to look like something other than a Shetland pony. 

While he only speaks in Nazi-lingo, you can tell how much he likes something by how much his bad eye shudders and twitches. If the eye doesn't twitch, who cares about the bitch?