How anyone can not enjoy a good Phil Collins song is beyond me, but some people insist that he blows. Well, you are wrong. He’s an absolute genius. So when I got an email from Phil’s agent asking if he could write a guest blog, I had to say yes. Didn’t ask what the topic was going to be. Didn’t need to. Some people have earned our undying respect and admiration, and Phil Collins is one of those people.
Phil Collins here. I am a world-renowned recording artist and one of the top easy listening acts of all time. I’m serious. Check out my numbers. I’m actually being inducted into the Soft-Rock Hall of Fame next month. It’s located in downtown Albany. It’s the giant steel building across from city hall, shaped like a vagina.
I’ve been tour in Europe and Canada for the past few months, so there’s a lot to talk about there. But even more important than that are the many charitable causes I support. I’m not many artists out there who just talk about their causes – I take action. I do things like give money and write love songs about Tarzan. I do all of this for the causes. These are important to me, and I want to address all of them.
But before I do, let me tell you about this exciting new product I just tried. It’s a state of the art vacuum cleaner that picks up dirt easier, makes very little noise, and best of all, it’s 100% safe to have sex with. I’d like to introduce to you…..the Fuckuum 3000.
When I toured with Genesis during the ’80’s, I was notorious for wanting to know how I could safely fuck a vacuum cleaner. I would stay up late into the night on our tour bus trying to figure out a way – calculating equations using complicated algorithms, examining the blueprints for various vacuum cleaners, and pouring over news clippings of guys who had lost their dicks trying to fuck vacuum cleaners. Some guys even had their balls sucked into the vacuum bag. It was an obsession that dominated every fiber of my being. I would drink heavily out of frustration, followed by half-assed performances. In fact, I clearly remember doing a show in San Antonio back in 1985 and saying to the audience, “I’d love to play an encore of Invisible Touch, but I’ve got to go figure out how to fuck this Hoover I found backstage. Drive safe.”
My band mates, Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford, were becoming more and more frustrated with my vacuum-screwing antics. And so was I. On one hand, I had this unquenchable passion to stick my junk in a household cleaning tool. On the other hand, I had a paralyzing fear of having my dick ripped off by the suction device. Somewhere out there, there had to be a balance. I had to find some sort of happy medium to quell my fear while at the same time satisfying my one true dream.
Well, I’m happy to tell you that I found that happy medium. The makers of the Fuckuum 3000 have created a machine that is perfect in every way. It picks up 75% more dirt than the leading brand and can store much more also, which means less changing of messy vacuum bags. And while most vacuums are loud and obnoxious, the Fuckuum 3000 emits a low hum that almost sounds soothing. And last, but certainly not least, it is an absolute joy to have sex with.
Nowadays, before many of my shows, I’ll settle into a comfortable easy chair with a glass of Chardonnay, a good book, and a Fuckuum, and I’ll have myself a grand old time. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a guy in a headset scream through my dressing room door, “Mr. Collins! You need to quit fucking that vacuum cleaner and get out here to play Against All Odds!” And I usually do…after a couple more quick fucks. Another great feature of the Fuckuum: it’s waterproof. I’ll take it into the shower with me, belt out a few verses of Sussudio, and before you know it, old Philly Boy is going to town like a kid on Christmas Day.
You’re going to hear plenty of backlash against this fine product. Some will say it’s unnatural. Others will say it’s unhealthy. Many more will challenge the product’s safety. Let me assure you that I have given it my Phil Collins safety stamp of approval. And besides, this is much safer than my old habit of fucking Thanksgiving turkeys. Before you think I’m crazy for doing that, it couldn’t be just any turkey. Oh no, I had standards. I wouldn’t just bang cold, uncooked turkeys at the supermarket. That would be disgusting. It had to be completely prepared, with all the trimmings, including those little white chef hats you put on the drumsticks. It also had to be owned and cooked by a family who was getting ready to eat it. At the last second before they began the meal I would burst into their house, unannounced and uninvited, and bang the hell out of the turkey they had planned on enjoying. It wasn’t about the actual act of turkey fucking, though. It was more of a challenge for myself to see how long I could fuck the turkey before the man of the house gave me the beating of a lifetime.
You know what, don’t even get me started on that whole Thanksgiving turkey fucking fiasco. Let’s just say that whole ordeal a lot to do with Peter Gabriel bailing on Genesis. He might have had a point. It is very difficult to be a world famous pop group when your drummer is all about being nuts deep in a Butterball.
Now seems like as good a time as any to stop this blog.