That year, the Billster called it quits with The Smashing Pumpkins, licked his now-bald-headed wounds (the receding hairline gave way to a wax job around October 1995) for awhile, and then came out with a Rock Storm called Zwan. Zwan was the greatest rock band ever. Yes, even greater than The Smashing Pumpkins, but sometimes super-greatness just can't live up to pretty-damned-good-but longer-lasting-greatness.
Billy was disheartened with this turn of events, but licked his wounds and played with a few small titties (and probably let the owners of said titties lick his "wounds") for a couple of years before he concurrently released a solo album and took out a $3500 ad in the Sun-Times (or was it the Tribune?) saying that he wanted his band back. This probably tapped him, as The Future Embrace didn't sell well. Neither did his poetry book, which I forgot to mention and probably should just leave out, because it would be an embarrassment to the man.
Presently, the bald self-proclaimed genius and nearly-forty-year-old, angst-ridden shell of a man who lives with his two kittens in a 6-million-dollar mansion on the shores of Lake Michigan (or whichever one is in Chicago) is in the studio with the new "Smashing Pumpkins," consisting of himself, Jimmy Chamberlin (the band's original drummer), probably Melissa Auf der Maur (who claims that her services--whatever they may be--are always open to Corgan), and some other dude that hasn't really been named yet but has been rumored to be everyone from the band's original second guitarist (is that an oxymoron?), James Iha, to my uncle.
'i named my child billy and gave him a guitar and a superman top'