Enrique Iglesias
Insomniac
Poor Enrique. punished for the sins of his father with that unsightly growth on his face – a big, gooey monster placed there to remind him of the debauched, syphilitic excesses of the one who spawned him… Little is known of the mother. A peasant girl, some say, with a strong enough back to bare the evil one’s first male child. Legend has it that she was put to death on the birth of the abomination, and her remains were feasted on by Henry ‘Say my name three times’ Kissinger, Elton John and several tea-cup chihuahuas. Enrique grew powerful, and by the new millennium he was ready to unleash his sleaze on the world. But he knew he would never achieve his potential with that canker on his honey-gold cheek. Now you know the true story behind the Iglesias bloodline (for the benefit of humourless tabloid editors: I’m only joking, shithead) you will realise the significance of what I tell you next. It is gone. The mole is no more. Some crazed plastic surgeon has only gone and hacked it off. Enrique stares out from the cover of his new album sleeve, eyes full of death and sex, but not in a good way. Flawless evil.
When Julio Iglesias first mixed soft porn, Blue Nun and shit lounge music, there was a certain charm to it. Like half a Rohypnol in a Cinzano Blanco. But his de-moled son? Well, that’s a whole other kettle o’ used condoms. When Papa sang to “all the gurls he luft before,” you could almost see how they could have “luft” him back. But Sonny Boy? Check out the song titles: ‘On Top of You,’ ‘Tired of Being Sorry,’ ‘Little Girl.’ They appear in that order, but shuffle them around and it gets even worse. All I can say is that it is all very wrong.
by Rory O'Keeffe
when is enrique cong bck to dublin?????????????????????????????????????????????????///
Posted by: arica | November 04, 2009 at 22:54