Please Like Me - The Return Of The Return Of BrunoBy Joe Somar
Valentine’s Day is coming up, and just like any airborne disease, love is in the air. If my V-Day is anything like last year I’ll be spending a good portion of my evening scrubbing blood off of a polyester heart costume and wading through a sea of soul-crushing loneliness. Believe me, I love spending romantic evenings at Tavern on the Green feeding caviar to a girl who looks like Lydia Lunch circa 1981, but if we’re gonna be realistic about things, I’m just going to end up arguing with the manager of Domino’s over the logistics of cutting my pizza into the shape of heart.
When I’m feeling down in the dumps, I like to optimize my surroundings and create an environment that puts me at ease. Picking the right soundtrack is crucial. You can be one of those Promise Ring types and stare at your belly button all night long, but I don’t think that’s the way out. And although I certainly usually agree with Steve Albini’s old philosophy of submerging yourself in shit instead of trying to rise above, I hardly think he meant this as a green light for wallowing in self-pity. No, you need to get up off your ass and embrace the bizarre cosmic ballet that is living!
So I present to you the #1 antidote for the suicide blues: Bruce Willis’ The Return of Bruno!
I bought this on cassette the day it came out. I was so excited to hear the dude from Moonlighting belt out some killer tunes from the speaker’s hidden inside my Teddy Ruxpin. Buck-Buck didn’t disappoint. I have a theory that the day Otis Redding passed away, his soul shot out of his carcass and soared into the body of a 12-year-old named Walter Bruce Willis. If you don’t believe me, run out and buy the record (don’t you dare try to illegally download this masterpiece!) and check out his version “Under the Boardwalk.” You can almost hear Ghost Otis harmonizing with the Hudson Hawk himself. It’s a truly moving experience! This man was born to be a performer.
Check out this video:
Did that get your blood pumping to the max or what? I can’t imagine that Motown Records has a finer recording in their back catalog than The Return of Bruno. So next time you’re thinking of ordering the Sylvia Plath special, turn the oven right the fuck off and turn this tape on instead.
I’ll leave you with this photograph of me touching my Bruce Willis tape with the boner it made:
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