Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

Order your Elvis license plate here!

In Tennessee you can now order yourself an Elvis license plate. Practically speaking, he died in 1958, when he stopped rocking, entered the Army, dated (and ultimately married) a hot little 14 year old Scientologist, got discharged and came out all scrubbed up Hollywood style. He went on to do 33 crappy stupid movies with Ann-Margaret and Shelley Fabares where he was, like, a cocky but sensitive Argentinian gaucho who solved crimes when he wasn't roping Angus cattle or getting into fights except for those times when he'd pull out his guitar suddenly and for absolutely no reason commence "singing". There was always a "bad" girl and a "good" girl and after sampling the carnal delights of the "bad" girl our hero would ultimately come to his senses...and of course in the end he'd get the "good" girl. Amen. A Quinn Martin Production.

The only time life was ever shown again was that brief 1968 glimpse--the comeback special in Hawaii.

He died on the throne in 1977, attempting to butt blast out his latest peanut butter and banana sandwich. So here's my Elvis plate:

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 11:16 AM