Concerto in B(ag) Flat Minor
After uncomfortably trying to determine Black Lung’s gender only to watch my eyes melt into puddles of room temperature goo, I decided the best cure was a ‘Bag Overture, a douche symphony if you will.
Here we have multiple melodic scrotages interweaving with Philip “Forehead Grease” Glass dexterity yet maintaining the modern classical structures of an Aaron “Facial Pube” Copland. It is a cacophony of phony caca. Douche harmony with just a touch of greasy tonal dissonance.
There was a bit of nudity in this composition, however, which as any classical music afficianado knows is frowned upon at Lincoln Center. Therefore I’ve been forced to invoke the Holy Spirit of Douche Lee (hallowed be thy androgynous name) to preserve the performative nature of this modern composition.
Like any great douche symphony, measure the quality of the composition in the ability to invoke the urge to spew wildly while desiring to suck on the thigh of an Asian cutie in a blue slip (even if she is long past Stage-4, never to come back). Given those criteria, this performance ranks with an early Arthur “Popped Collar” Fiedler. It is that good (and by “good” I mean spew).
Yet this performance of rank douchebaggery is not, apparently, enough to distract text messaging cell phone boy in the background.
