prolific.org

Party scene. Crowded. He brings her in, comes over, kisses me while she avoids me. They sit down at the table behind me. I can hear them fight.

“I can’t do it with HER here,” she says and I turn around.

She is laid out on a silver plate. Her hair is done up and wrapped in a black nylon balaclava like the queen in Disney’s Snow White. Her neck is Modigliani-long. From the shoulders down she is… fish. Sashimi. Glittering cuts of silver and blue herring.

I wake up.

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Our Queen’s father, His Royal Highness, Prince Bernhard, has died. He
died of a malignant tumor in his lungs and his bowels.

Asked how he wanted to be remembered, the prince told the press: “I hope the Dutch people remember that I broke my balls for them my whole life.” He was a scoundrel and a real character and I liked him for it.

BBC News: Prince Bernard dies

I’ve been watching Virgin Prunes videos for most of the evening. All in the name of research, mind.

It’s almost unbelievable that the warped images on these videos depict men, no… boys not even 25. They wrote some heavy shit barely out of their teens.

If from now on I watched pap for the rest of my life, I’d still be allowed entry to music heaven. I’ve paid my dues watching 4th generation bootleg tapes of Dave-id Busarus vibeing out at a 1983 New York crowd. I’ve seen two men in quite queen-less drag jump each other, roll around in muck and scream: “Why. Should I. Be like you?”

I’ve paid 150 DM for a Japanese pressing of If I Die, I Die. I have all the early CD-releases. Twice. And I’d buy the upcoming remastered CDs if I wasn’t getting them for free this time.

That place in music heaven’s mine.

From Monday, we will be revealing the artwork and tracklists for five re-mastered Virgin Prunes CDs on Virginprunes.com. One CD per week until their release in September.

So come on all you Marilyn Manson fans, come see where Brian got his cue. Other Prunes adepts include The Sugarcubes (Björk), Michael Stipe and Kevin Shiels (My Bloody Valentine).

Look mum, our site’s linked from Mute.com.

ALLEZ LES BLEUS! (or is it bleux?). In a spot of a-typical nationalism, prol is happy those Italians didn’t win ‘cuz they beat OUR team’. Basically France deserved it – though perhaps not on the night. Fun moments: 1. the French team actually breaking the trophy! 2. Our queen looking a bit confused at the end. I don’t think she realised what happened when the ‘golden goal’ was scored. 3. The Italians across the road SHUTTING UP. Sheesh, all that noise when I’m trying to work.

All in all… a great tournament, with excellent football, ‘des equippes tres ’sympa’, and very little hype & hullaballoo. Now next time get rid of the hooligans all together: host it in England so we don’t have to deal with ‘em.