In spite of the need for me to update you on a poetry reading I attended and read at last night, it’s time for your daily Gogol Bordello….
The video is a bit of a wank-a-thon, but I post it because Eugene Hutz’ pants are falling down past the crack of his skinny ass, so dangerously low that I fear taking my teenage daughters to the show tomorrow night in VT should there be a Jim Morrison-style exposure. Look, I’m not against nudity (au contraire), but sloppy, drunken exposure is another thing.
The lyrics are silly, but hey, they are sung in no less than THREE LANGUAGES. Do you get that no less than 5 continents are represented in the band? How you can’t tell if Hutz is pretentious (Diogenes, Foucoult), silly (start wearing purple), a drunkard, all or none of the above or some other mysterious and wonderful manifestation we haven’t seen before in a punk-gypsy-rock pop band?
I am sure the bouncers are glad he’s just a skinny thing.
twinklysparkles 
Hey, some of most treasured memories involve sloppy, drunken exposure.
a chaque un son gout! (to each his own!)
boy did I get that wrong! That’s how I remember learning the phrase in high school French class. Chaque=each….but as I just googled it, I found:
à chacun son goût
close. idiotic idioms.