Hey, sorry, I'm a day late--I spent yesterday in mourning over Joe Torre (though as of right now, he hasn't been handed his walking papers)--but I couldn't let John Lennon's 67th birthday go by without the inevitable tribute. Here he demonstrates his uncanny ability to make absolute, utter despair surprisingly melodic:
And here he is with that obscure band he was in. Yeah, I kind of got sick of this song about the same time as everyone else--it's hard to hear it without visions of Matthew Broderick appearing in my head--but Lennon sings the hell out of it, and geez, the lads seem to be having a ball.
I was going to leave it at that, but what the heck...Ladies and germs, Jeremy Hilary Boob, Esquire:
