The Gonzo Journals
January 13th, 2023
This week, Rock & Roll fans lost an icon. Jeff Beck, one of the greatest guitarists of all time, passed on into the great unknown, leaving behind an amazing catalogue of talent and tunes the likes of which can rarely be matched by any other musician. He played with some of the greats, entertaining millions. He will surely be missed…
We interrupt this meaningful eulogy to bring you this special news bulletin!!!
Lisa Marie Presley, a pseudo celebrity who has done nothing more than be the King of Rock & Roll’s animate sperm puddle has died!
What in the actual fuck.
We’re sorry, world, but all recognition of lost TRUE talent must cease immediately! We must remember Lisa Marie instead!
Look, folks, you know I hate to be the one to bring this to everyone’s attention (Lie. I love it.), but not a goddamn single soul on this planet has carried on a meaningful conversation about Lisa Marie Presley in the last two decades other than Lisa Marie Presley herself or maybe her therapist. Still, the social media morticians are out in full force!
Forget about any real loss to this planet’s peaceful energy and musical groove, the real tragedy was a has-been tabloid queen who once slipped from “The King’s” pee hole and into destined obscurity. Then again, she was married to Michael Jackson for two years on paper. On television, they looked about as ‘in love’ as a Republican Presidential nominee’s family on stage after a pre-election debate. Don’t believe me? I’m not talking shit. It’s a fact. Look at how Democrat husbands and wives present themselves at such events compared to Republicans. Conservatives look like they hired a chick from the corner and they’re not quite sure how much touching will invoke additional charges. It’s sad, and one of the reasons I’m a liberal. I’m a huge fan of love and all the things that come with it.
Also, Lisa Marie was married to Nicholas Cage for two years on paper as well. Now this is an accomplishment, and the only fucking thing worthwhile that should be listed on her headstone. Nic Cage is a goddamn god of cinema and I’m just a little upset that I didn’t get the chance to blow him before she did. Pitiful timing.
They say Lisa Marie died of cardiac arrest, so the possibilities are endless. Over the next couple of weeks, the television will be full of nothing but hastily made documentary specials and Hollywood will cum in their pants while dishing out contracts to make Lisa Marie: The Movie. I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve the respect that any other dead person should get, other than maybe Hitler or Osama Bin Laden, but the entire internet has come alive with Lisa Marie posts like they fucking used to walk next door to borrow a cup of sugar from her. Screw off, Facebook. No one likes you.
I’m by no means disrespecting Elvis Presley and the legacy he left behind, but she was his daughter. Nothing more, nothing less. A tabloid headline and a candid photograph on a grocery store checkout line rack from twenty years ago. For her sake, this is where she should’ve stayed. Thanks to the curse of instantaneous information via social media, the universe will soon know how many drugs were in her system, and, if we’re lucky, how many times things got inserted into her anus by strangers so she could make rent from month to month.
Ironically, the inspiration for this rant came to me while sitting on the toilet. That’s where her father died. I’m still breathing. Do I win?
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