Oyster Boy Review 03  
  October 1995
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» Levee 67



Jay Jones

I'm eating a sensible vegan dinner in town,
when Michael Stipe walks in and sits at my table.

"I'm a fan," I tell him,
"but I don't care for your voice, and your lyrics are often mired in cliches.
I do, however, have great respect for you as a multimedia artist."

Michael Stipe scowls, and out of nowhere, decks me with a left hook.

As I lay there, unconscious, dreaming of other dinners with
different rock stars behaving civilly, Michael Stipe jumps
on me, tears at my flesh, and just before taking a bite out
of my face, says:

"Don't believe everything you see on TV, faggot."

At least I think that's what he said.