Behold A Pale Whore - Memoirs by Spike

Damn! I dreamt that I woke up swimming in a pile of reds and black beauties! The reality of the situation is that I actually woke up face down in a pile of half-chewed cocktail wieners and Jager. I swear that's the last time I cruise the Craigslist "Missed Connections" section looking for the power twink with daddy issues that caught my eye on that fateful autumn morning. Trust me, sausage and anise flavored liquor is not the throat-gasm drip you think it is. But then again, I'm used to having beef franks lodged in the back of my throat....sometimes for pay but mostly for play.

So, lamenting my existence, I decided to slam some methaqualone. Next, I wept and rubbed some seed over my collection of old handbills. Good times, but then two stuck together flyers caught my eye. As I peeled away the 1978 Halloween Show advert for my former band PLO Handjob, I found this picture underneath.



It is a Pakistan Airlines advert from the same year. Bad taste? Even worse than reclaimed dumpster meat? Or just the government shoving a cold cock in your ear.