May 10, 2002 | 10:20 AM

Oh it�s gonna be so good. And if you miss it, well� piss on you.

The June 3rd Sorry Jar show at Jacques starring yours truly and my Johnny Dear is gonna kick out the jams mutherfucker beyond your wildest gold lamee dreams.

First of all, John and I are now ex�s, which puts us in the same category as Exene Cervanka and John Doe; Janet Weis and Sam Coombs; Meg and Jack White; Annie Lennox and that guy nobody gives a shit about (ok�nobody gives a shit about either of them, but you know what I�m sayin�)

Watching two ex�s perform is way cooler than some happy farts lovey dovey bastards strumming away about joy and fun and seasons in the sun.

Yeah yeah, I know-- there's the exception�Thurston and Kim are awesome. I actually just had dinner at their house last week. We roasted a pig on a spigot in the backyard while Coco played on the swingset. Thurston and I had a heart to heart and he revealed to me that Blue Oyster Cult is secretly his favorite band. He had tears in his eyes and I told him to just let it out brother. Everybody�s got a skeleton or two hanging next to their moth eaten seersucker.

But anyway, back to the magic at hand.

The Sorry Jar show. The rock. It�s gonna be a super fantastic spectacle of shameless debauchery. A combination of The Chealsea Hotel circa 1977, Cirque De Soleil, Les Deux Maggots, Altamont, and the junior prom. There�s gonna be midgets doing cartwheels and The Rockettes high kicking it in pasties and g-strings. There�ll be free popcorn and stickers for all and a recount of the 2000 election. Grace Slick is gonna puke all over your table while Mamie Van Doren dances atop it. There will be shared revelations including the identity of Deep Throat, the reason that all artificially flavored raspberry items are blue colored, the capitol of Montana, and why the X-files started sucking so bad last season.

You gotta gotta gotta be there.

And if you aren�t,

Well, I�ll cry about it.

A lot.