Youdopia, I want to share one of my favorite songs with you. Mr. Bad Example by Warren Zevon. It is funny, frenetic and fantastic cheesy. The video is from an appearance on Letterman, as if that’s not obvious, but you can hear the original by clicking on the image above. Yes, I love easter eggs. I also love nonsequitors.   This song was written in one night, while consuming turkish coffee nonstop. I love it. Because I love you, I’ve provided the lyrics so you can read along as he sings it. It’s fast and seemingly all sung in one breath. I love it. Enjoy the good music.

I started as an altar boy, working at the church
Learning all my holy moves, doing some research
Which led me to a cash box, labeled “Children’s Fund”
I’d leave the change, and tuck the bills inside my cummerbund

I got a part-time job at my father’s carpet store
Laying tackless stripping, and housewives by the score
I loaded up their furniture, and took it to Spokane
And auctioned off every last naugahyde divan

I’m very well aquainted with the seven deadly sins
I keep a busy schedule trying to fit them in
I’m proud to be a glutton, and I don’t have time for sloth
I’m greedy, and I’m angry, and I don’t care who I cross

I’m Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt
I like to have a good time, and I don’t care who gets hurt
I’m Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me
I’ll live to be a hundred, and go down in infamy

Of course I went to law school and took a law degree
And counseled all my clients to plead insanity
Then worked in hair replacement, swindling the bald
Where very few are chosen, and fewer still are called

Then on to Monte Carlo to play chemin de fer
I threw away the fortune I made transplanting hair
I put my last few francs down on a prostitute
Who took me up to her room to perform the flag salute

Whereupon I stole her passport and her wig
And headed for the airport and the midnight flight, you dig?
And fourteen hours later I was down in Adelaide
Looking through the want ads sipping Fosters in the shade

I opened up an agency somewhere down the line
To hire aboriginals to work the opal mines
But I attached their wages and took a whopping cut
And whisked away their workman’s comp and pauperized the lot

I’m Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt
I like to have a good time, and I don’t care who gets hurt
I’m Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me
I’ll live to be a hundred and go down in infamy

I bought a first class ticket on Malaysian Air
And landed in Sri Lanka none the worse for wear
I’m thinking of retiring from all my dirty deals
I’ll see you in the next life, wake me up for meals

I got the lyrics here.

Well, Youdopia, I have been hard on Ol’ Doc lately. I haven’t read him, thought of him… I thought I even outgrew him for awhile.

That’s not true, though. I was mad. Mad at him for blowing his brains out. Well, I’m older and perhaps wiser, and I must say that I seem to lack a certain twinkle in the eye that came from aligning with the Gonzo. Who am I to judge? We all have that right to say, “enough”, I believe. Sorry, Doc. I was just mad. I still love you.

Warren Zevon is another one who has gone, but from mesothelioma, not lead. This clip has Warren and Hunter S Thompson hanging out in a hotel room with some bimbos (yeah, they are. Just look) and Benicio del Toro.

Warren was already dying, and Hunter was already counting down the days. There’s nothing profound about the video. I just found it and … pined.