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Late, Late at Night Book Review
missjosh

DESPERATELY SEEKING SEX

AND FOUL LANGUAGE

 

Copyright 2012

 

LATE, LATE AT NIGHT BY Rick Springfield

 

A Book Review

 

 

Having been a fan of Rick Springfield since the 1960s, I was hoping to pick up this book and learn things about him that every avid fan really wants to know:

  1. Did you really cut your eyelashes because they were too long and you were made fun of in school?
  2. Did Australia really not celebrate Christmas and you were so excited about it in the U.S. that you left your indoor Christmas lights on all year round?
  3. What’s your favourite colour?  Ok, as an avid fan, it is blue!
  4. Did Gloria Stavers, of ’16 Magazine’, make everything up and fix your hair and clothes, like she did for Jim (now I’m dead) Morrison?
  5. Do you have an interest in Native Americans and that is why you decided to wear the Indian outfits?
  6. At what point did Gloria Monty, producer of ‘General Hospital’, yell at you, “Stop licking your lips every two seconds!”?  You did this for months.  Well, it seems like months.  And she was constantly yelling at Rick #1 (...Dean Anderson), “Cut your hair!”
  7. And why didn’t they mention that would be annoying when you were in acting classes.  Well, maybe they did, but you were too busy with the girls to listen, I guess.
  8. And etc.

 

However, this is not what I got.  He is so self-obsessed, that his fans (except as sex objects) are not important.  Even when he mentions that the autograph on his Haley Mills picture is fake and how hurt and angry he was, he still proceeds to do the same, when he gets famous.  This book is about bragging.  Oh, he tries to make it sound sad, but he misses the mark woefully.  He comes off as a bozo.  A real clown.  It is hard to even feel sorry for him, when actual tragedy strikes.  Oh, and making, losing, making money?  Most of the stars have been there in the ‘biz’.  With all the spelling errors, you would think this a vanity pressing, but no it is a division of Simon & Schuster!

 

There is not a page that doesn’t reek of f***, s***, mf, well, you get the point.  One would think that having children would stop it a bit, but, no.  Rick’s wife, B, yells at him when her water breaks, “I’m having a f******* baby!”  And they are ever so proud when their under 4 year old boy, who has been kidnapped for 10 minutes, comes walking home and calls the man a “d***weed.”  Find a page in this book that is readable and “good on ya.”

 

In between all the foul language, Rick lets us know that he has had a sex, a lot of sex…well, actually, more than a lot of sex.  It is a good thing that these two masochists found each other.  When Rick says they are “soulmates,” he is not just whistling ‘Waltzing Mathilda.’  He claims it is because he thinks he’s ugly.  Well, my parents told me I’m ugly and I haven’t slept with half the population of the earth!

 

And, speaking of myself, I suffer from depression.  It is a painful place both mentally and physically.  I have had it, that I know of, since 1962.  However, I have had neither the Courage to try and off myself (as the book starts with…pride will out) nor have I given it a name.  And certainly not after a ‘Rolling Stones’ song, as ‘Dancing with Mr. D’ is about the Devil not Depression.  So, Ricky Boy has a voice in his head that says, “I’m good enough.”  I have that voice, too.  Unless you are psychiatrist, it is not worth writing a full book about it for over 300 pages!

 

And, no, the last few pages don’t make up for your saying that a young girl pooping in front of you on the ground is very sexual!

 

Also, I have better pictures in my Rick Springfield scrapbook, which I will probably put on Ebay to get the money back for this book.

 

I could go on and on, but seriously, that would just give Rick an ego boost.  I made it to the end, yea me, but I’m left unsatisfied.  (I mean that mentally, not physically, which I’m sure a lot of his used and tossed aside women would agree with.)  And, although I still love the music, I am a bit put off knowing exactly where it comes from.  His penis.  Why is no one surprised he flaunted it on ‘Californication’ (which I did not watch)? Because given everything in his life, including his family and his dogs, it is the one thing we know he really loves from reading this book.

 

I’m giving it an F.

 

miss josh emmett

swordsofwayland@yahoo.com    

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