Today's feature is a collection of ill advised portrait covers.
Some are worse than others, I think that the Frank Sinatra / Lena Horne pairing might be my favorite.
Today's feature is a collection of ill advised portrait covers.
Some are worse than others, I think that the Frank Sinatra / Lena Horne pairing might be my favorite.
This week would have seen the birthday of beloved (and truly alternative) musician Tiny Tim, who passed away in 1996 from an acute case of death.
He matters to me because I cannot think of him without feeling a lovely little warmth in my normally cold, cold heart.
Recently, the (coincidentally-named) Amoebite posted a swell interview regarding Tiny Tim, but I wanted to tackle this subject, too – particularly because I am less burdened with fact and honesty and can therefore flesh out what may be as-yet-unknown facets of the artist’s life and career.
Tiny Tim, before puberty ruined everything
Tiny Tim was born Herbert Khaury on April 12, 1932, in a town just south of Duchess County called New York City (not to be confused with the song "New York City" by Hanoi Rocks). Many historical records list his parents as being people, though this is speculation, and any actual witnesses have long since not been asked.
Young Herbert was given the nickname “Tiny Tim” by locals in his neighborhood because of his habit of walking around on crutches, munching Christmas puddings and asking God to "bless them, every one." (Other nicknames were bestowed as well, such as “that cripple kid who smells like stew” or “faggot,” but none of these stuck.)
Check out my orig. smoke blog here.
