I don't have even the slightest clue how come I am his namesake. Uncle Dave Wronski. Aka "Downright Dirty Dave". Known as such, far and wide.How come?
He's in the show biz. Seen here back stage in his favorite haunt, the show girls' dressing room. Perhaps for inspiration? Who can fathom the swamp of motives and impulses in another Human being; heck, hard enough to get clarity on that such in oneself. No?
Well ... D. D. Dave is a musician. Piano player estraordinaire. Writes his own music, song lyrics too. Sticky point is that his lyrics are the worst. So outrageously loaded with all kinds of innuendos and double meanings in the category often referred to as "BLUE". Nothing is sacred and every which manner of perversion and decadent filth is the rule for his songs. The music itself, however ... divine. Heavenly. Some have even had deep discussion on how such lofty inspirational musicality can be combined with lyrical themes based on the lowest perversions, and worse.
It should be stated at this junction to understand that a strong familial inclination among the Wronski's is the quest to harmonize the so-called opposites. A noble enterprise. Not really. It's just born out of the clash in that group's genetics to have been given a full compliment of all the best of Humanity; and, all the worst. The latter, also in full measure. The reconciliation imperative is hard a wired inclination naturally built into the quantum level structure of "Wronski".
The whole family is scratching their collective heads as to how come such a rotten Apple got into the family Apple barrel. Again, not so much that it's there, but that it should show itself so brazenly in a member of the fold. Keeping up appearances sort of thing. Okay? And, don't let's get into that self-searching psycho bullshit telling me that maybe there's a shadow architype running in the family genetics what has not been brought to light. That's such an upsetting notion to any true blood Wronski that to even suggest that it's a tell of truth of such gets such a strong reaction that you'll be banished as a friend ... forever. Don't tell me who I am! You take care of the how you are! C. G. Jung: bone up on his teachings for more on this subject.
Like I said, Dirty Dave plays the piano. Virtuosic. World acclaim. But, those lyrics.
He once was up for a gig at a trendy night club but the manager insisted that he only play his music, leave the lyrics out. Like I said, pretty raunchy stuff. Wrounchy Wronski? No, that's an appelation we have for yet another of the Wronski clan. Who as you might surmise from the nickname covers the raunchy side of life to a fair-thee-well. And, some say, and then some.
So Downright Dirty Dave gets the gig. Agrees to the nix on the, ahem, lyrics. He's at center stage. The audience is spellbound. Exquisito. Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! You get the picture.
The set's finished, time for a break. Time for a leak. As Uncle would also often also say, " ... time to lay some pipe". "Drop a deuce." "Soil the potty." "Push out a stinker." "Take a ..." He is a poet of the scatalogical. Ahead of his time? Perhaps. If you've lived long enough in present times you can see the evolution of mores of the times. "Free the nipple"? That's almost a quaint thing to say. "Free the pussy" now seems to be in the warm up pitcher's box. And, let's not get any snide wise cracks on the use of the word "box".
As so it goes ...
As he's coming out the men's room someone says to him, "Hey, mister, your fly is down and your dick is hanging out!".
"Know it! I wrote it!"
See what I mean. Go figger.
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