Incredible Dancing Baby

17 06 2010

I was going to write a long, controversial post about a fanatic religious woman who stuffed Bible pages down her baby’s throat and sat on her until she died.  Then I came across this ridiculously entertaining video of a Brazilian baby samba dancing and I forgot what I was going to say.

This toddler has more rhythm in his hips than most white men will have in a lifetime.  And he’s in a DIAPER.  Just sayin’.


What’s Your Theme Song?

21 05 2010

Yesterday afternoon, some friends and I went to the Nationals game to watch them get crushed by the Mets (hooray?).  What’s cool about home games is that each player gets to pick a personalized at-bat theme song.  The choices range from Pearl Jam’s “Even Flow” to unrecognizable crunk rap to Metallica’s version of “Turn the Page.”  I think they are generally supposed to be loud and manly and intimidating, maybe to scare the pitcher or something.

Anyway, we got to talking about theme songs.  What would our at-bat theme songs be?  My friend said his would be “Rape Me” by Nirvana, which I thought left something to be desired in the intimidation department.  I would probably pick something slow and melodramatic by Celine Dion, just to mess with the pitcher’s head.  Maybe “All By Myself,” or “Because You Loved Me.”  Can’t you picture it?  I’m walking up to bat, swinging my sinewy arms around and spitting brown dip spit into the dirt as I step up to the plate, and Celine comes on the loudspeaker:  “When I was young, I never needed anyone, and makin’ love was just for fun… Those days are gone.”  How are you gonna throw me a fast-ball after that?

This conversation obviously gave way to a broader conversation about life theme songs.  Everyone has thought about his or her life theme song, which wouldn’t play ALL the time, just at key emotional climaxes.  Or you could have a few different songs that correspond to the different major emotions– happiness, sadness, anger, fear, humiliation– and always play at the appropriate times.

For instance, I would appreciate it if Van Morrison’s “Bright Side of the Road” played throughout the universe at key happy moments in my life, like when I’m walking down the street after getting a big job promotion.  When I’m pissed off, I would like for Limp Bizkit’s “Break Stuff” to blast out of the clouds.  And while I’m getting married, I think that everyone on the planet should be forced to listen to Elvis’ “It’s Now or Never,” just to make sure we’re all on the same page.  Know what I mean?

But if I had to pick one overarching theme song for myself that would follow me around and color my moods, I would choose “Woman’s Got Soul,” by the Impressions.

So there you have it.  What’s your theme song?

Worst Wedding DJ EVER

13 05 2010

Courtesy of DListed:

Watch with sound.  I’m dying. DYING.

Whitney Houston vs. Pudgy Taiwanese Boy with a Bowl Cut

6 04 2010

And the winnner is… pudgy Taiwanese boy with a bowl cut, by a landslide!!!!

The Mystery of Indie Rock Show-Goers

25 03 2010

I went to two shows this week as part of my life campaign to be a cooler person.  A disproportionate number of my friends go to shows all the time, multiple nights a week, alone or with others.  They love indie music so much that they will stand at a music venue alone for 5 straight hours on a worknight watching some obscure band perform.  I can usually be found running loads of laundry, making popcorn and watching Jeopardy on worknights, which isn’t nearly as cool, so I decided it was time to test my mettle and see some weeknight concerts.

So Monday night, I had a ticket to see Joanna Newsom at the 6th and I Synagogue, a pretty neat venue.   I get off work at 6.  It’s cold and raining pretty hard.  By the time I get home I’m soaked, and very tired from a crappy day at work.  The idea of putting on my pajamas, making myself some dinner and watching Jeopardy sounds really glorious at this point, but I already had a ticket to the show and a hot date, so I pushed myself to motivate.

Joanna Newsom

I arrive at the Synagogue and slip into a pew.  About 20 minutes later, these two dorky brothers with scruffy beards take the stage with one guitar.  For the next hour or so, they play some of the worst, most excruciating music I’ve ever heard.  One brother would play the guitar and sing a song with really dumb lyrics while the other one tried to harmonize.  I mean, the harmonies themselves were fine, but a harmony does not a good song make!

Torture.  I honestly spent their whole set trying to figure out whether they were joking or not.

So their set finally ends, and then we have to wait another hour while Joanna and her back-up band scurry around the stage “tuning their instruments,” like they couldn’t have done that before the show.  So far, I’ve been sitting in a pew in a Synagogue for two hours with no quality entertainment.

Finally, Joanna begins.  She’s really cool– hair down to her butt, long, flowy dress, excellent harp skills and a beautiful, interesting voice.  So for her first couple of songs, I’m placated.  This is entertaining.

Then she plays a fourth song, and a fifth  song, and a sixth song, each like 8-10 minutes long.  Her voice starts to become a little grating.  If this were a CD, I would change it to a different artist to take a break from her for a little while, but it’s not a CD, so I have to listen to the same voice singing long-form, un-rhyming poetry for hours.  I recognize that what she’s doing is very cool and interesting, but my ears are just tired of hearing it, I’m squirming in my pew and my bedtime is quickly approaching.

Joanna ends with a song that I swear lasts about 13 minutes, and by the time she plucks the final string on her harp, I am nearly passed out on my date’s shoulder.  She walks off stage, and I’m pretty relieved to get to go home, but then– get this– the audience decides to clap and clap until she agrees to come back on stage for more.  Really, guys? I mean, she’s great, I really like her. But we’ve already heard her sing very similar-sounding songs for over an hour, and it’s 11:30.  Do we need more Joanna?

Anyway, we finally leave the show to find a parking ticket on my windshield.  Perfect.

So Tuesday happens.  I have a ticket to see Spoon at the 9:30 club.  I really like Spoon– I only know a few of their songs, but I figure that I know enough to make the show enjoyable.  Learning a lesson from the night before, I decide to skip the opening act and show up around 9:30, hoping to get there just in time for the real mccoy.


I arrive at 9:30 and elbow my way through the thick crowd to find my three friends in the middle, who have already been standing still in the same spot for over an hour.  (For you out-of-towners, the 9:30 Club has no place to sit, at all, so when you see shows there you have to stand still for extremely long periods of time.)

So Spoon takes the stage a little after 10 and plays til midnight.  They mostly play their “new stuff,” as all bands do because they’re sick of playing their “old stuff” even though that’s what everyone wants to hear.  I’m not really enjoying their new stuff, mostly because I’ve never heard it before, but everyone around me is bopping their heads so I instinctively bop my head as well to prove that I am a fan.

An hour in, my back is hurting, and I’ve only heard one song that is vaguely familiar to me.  By 11:30, I can barely stand up anymore my back hurts so badly, but there is no place to sit or crouch because I’m squished in between a bunch of dudes.  So I elbow my way back through the crowd and sit against the wall in the very back of the club until the show ends.  The three people I was there with, who had all been there long before I did, toughed it out and stood in that same spot all the way through the encore.  It was truly commendable.

Now, here’s what I want to know. I realize that going to shows sounds a lot cooler than hanging out in the comfort of your room and listening to those same bands on a CD or record.  But is the former really that much more enjoyable for everyone?  I mean, do most people really, really enjoy these shows, or is it more to be able to tell people that you saw X obscure band last night?   I mean, it’s a novelty getting to see some famous people perform that song that you like, but is it really worth all the effort?

All I know is that after my 2-show stretch this week, I really gained a new respect for show-goers.  They buy tickets, traverse the city on a Monday night, sit through terrible opening acts, stand in the same spot for hours upon hours and then demand an encore.  The mental and physical energy required to do all that, alone, multiple times a week, just boggles my mind.

So the answer to the original question I posed to myself is no, I’ll never be one of those cool people that goes to see indie rock shows all the time.  But I am seriously impressed by people who do.

Is Bad Taste in Music a Dealbreaker?

17 03 2010

A couple days ago on E-mails from Crazy People, a website that collects and posts crazy e-mails people have received, a man admitted to smashing all of his girlfriend’s CDs because, well, she has really crappy taste in music and he couldn’t take it anymore

The e-mail is frameable:

I know I’m a wimp for emailing but I want to be honest. You asked where your CD’s went, and I told you I didn’t know. I know. I destroyed them. At least all the bread and Dan Fogelberg CDs, same with the Air Supply and Wham. It’s been almost 2 months and I swear i couldn’t take it anymore.

I tried to overlook the truth, that you have the worst taste in music of anyone I’ve ever met. I know I told you I liked those CDs alright, but then I told you I really didn’t, I actually couldn’t stand them and I wished you wouldn’t play them when I was around. But you continued to play them and not just on your iPod but on the stereo, in the car, etc.

I’m sorry. You were out and I was having a shitty day and I saw them all sitting there on the shelf, and I just grabbed them and smashed them to smithereens. I used that big hammer from the basement ans smashed the shit out of them, and I enjoyed it. Because honestly Sally they are total garbage. The music you listen to is total garbage.

I probably shouldn’t have done this or at least discussed it with you one more time. but the truth is these bands are among the worst in the history of music on earth and when you hum along with them and struggle to sing the lyrics, as if the lyrics are worth struggling after and not even stupider than the music, I just want to throw up. and I wonder how can such an otherwise great, smart and totally hot woman be so fucking stupid when it comes to music.

I hope you understand. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I can replace them but really if I do I’ll probably just smash them again. I’ll be back Saturday and, if you want, I can come over and pick my stuff up because if you plan to listen to this shit again I’m just not going to be able to be there.


Sally’s response:

J: Are you joking? Where are you, I’ve left messages. Youre not joking are you. I don’t believe this, I don’t believe you. I’ve been looking for days. No, you don’t have to come over for your stuff. I’m throwing it away after stomping all over it with my boots. So no don’t come over. Ever. I do have good musical taste. You’re just a spoiled immature asshole.

I’m sorry– this is hysterical.  I’d love to say that I don’t blame J for smashing all of his girlfriend’s heinous CD’s with a hammer, but in reality, if my boyfriend smashed any of my records he didn’t approve of, regardless of how bad they are, I would probably break something very valuable of his as retribution.  Probably a body part.  But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

The main question being posed here is whether bad taste in music is really a deal-breaker, especially regarding “an otherwise great, smart, and totally hot” significant other?

I’m torn on the issue.  Loud mouth-breathing? Deal-breaker.  Referring to oneself in the third person?  Deal-breaker. But bad taste in music?  I wonder if people can just be nudged in the right direction…

The Century’s Dumbest Lyrics

15 03 2010

Fleetwood Mac

I never could stand Fleetwood Mac.  The fact that they had like 8,126 major hits over the span of their career really boggles my mind.

Normally, as soon as I hear the first few bars of a Fleetwood song on the radio, my hand automatically changes the station. But a couple days ago, both my hands were busy holding the wheel and texting (just kidding Mom. but seriously, I was holding the wheel and trying to eat an egg sandwich), and I was forced to listen to that God-awful Fleetwood song, “Dreams.” You know the one– the chorus goes like this:

Thunder only happens when it’s raining
Players only love you when they’re playing
They say, women, they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know
You will know

Seriously… what the f*ck does this mean?  First of all, its main premise is not even true.  Sometimes thunder happens when it’s not raining.  In fact, thunder often happens before it rains.  I mean, you could argue that it’s always raining somewhere, but then that line would just be stupid because everything technically happens when it’s raining somewhere.

Secondly, the thunder/rain analogy has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO with the second line about players only loving you when they’re playing.  They were clearly just trying to make a rhyme.  You could just as easily open the chorus with “Athletes don’t drink liquor when they’re training,” or “Good poops only happen when you’re straining,” and the song would not lose any of its meaning.

I got so angry listening to this song that I decided to write a post about the absolute dumbest lyrics of the past century.  Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” gets the number one spot, because the song just grates on my nerves so much.  But here are a few other idiotic, meaningless lyrics that I wish had not been hits:

Elton John- “Your Song”

If I was a sculptor…/But then again, no.

Are you schizophrenic, Elton? You’re a sculptor if you sculpt things.  This is not rocket science.

Rolling Stones- “Sweethearts Together”
Sweethearts together

We’ve only just begun

Sweethearts together

We’ll take life as it comes

Sweethearts forever

Two hearts together as one

Did you hear that sound? It was me vomiting all over my black leather pumps.  I love the Stones more than just about anyone, but this song is like every bad love lyric all mashed into one hideous conglomeration of crap.

Radiohead- “Idioteque”

Who’s in bunker, who’s in bunker
I’ve seen too much
I haven’t seen enough
You haven’t seen enough
I’ll laugh until my head comes off
Women and children first
And children first
And children..

I’m sure I’ll take heat for this one, since Radiohead is all but immortal, but come on.  “Who’s in bunker?” These lyrics prove that even Thom Yorke is not immune to mistakes.

Bob Dylan- “Forever Young”

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you

Ew, when did Bob Dylan turn into a Beatitude?  This song is mushier than a 3-month-old banana. NEXT.

Three Dog Night- “One”

One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do
Two can be as bad as one
It’s the loneliest number since the number one

No is the saddest experience you’ll ever know
Yes, it’s the saddest experience you’ll ever know
`Cause one is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do
One is the loneliest number, worse than two

So wait, let me get this straight.  Being alone makes you feel lonely?  I’m sorry Three Dog Night, you did some good stuff in your day, but this song is embarrassing.  It’s like Dr. Seuss for depressed toddlers.

Mims- “This is Why I’m Hot”


I’m hot cause I’m fly (fly)

You ain’t cause you not (Mims)

This is why

This is why I’m hot [2x]

This is why I’m hot

Catch me on the block

Every other day

Another bitch another drop

16 bars, 24 pop

44 songs, nigga gimme what you got

I’m in there driving cars

Push ’em off the lot

I’m into shutting stores down so I can shop

If you need a bird I can get it chopped

Tell me what you need you know I get ’em by the flock

How many one-syllable words can you think of that contain the short “O” vowel sound?  I’m pretty sure Mims thought of them all. Why?  Because he wanted to tell you why he’s hot, but the explanation was so brief that he ended up having to kill another 2 minutes and 30 seconds.

Seal- “Kiss from a Rose”

There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea.

You became the light on the dark side of me.

Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill.

But did you know,

That when it snows,

My eyes become large and

The light that you shine can be seen.


I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray.

Now, I have a graduate degree in English.  I’ve written many, many a bullshit essay on contemporary poems that don’t even appear to be written in English.  But I have absolutely zero idea what Seal is talking about here.  I’m picturing him standing in a graveyard with his eyes all bugged out.  In the snow.  Am I missing something? Lyrics fail.

Backstreet Boys- “Everybody”

Everybody, yeah

Rock your body, yeah

Everybody, yeah

Rock your body right

Backstreet’s back, alright

Hey, yeah

Oh my God, we’re back again

Brothers, sisters, everybody sing

Gonna bring the flavor, show you how

Gotta question for you better answer now, yeah

Am I original?


Am I the only one?


Am I sexual?


Am I everything you need?

You better rock your body now

…This album sold over 32 million copies worldwide.  We should all kill ourselves.

Manfred Mann- “Blinded by the Light”


Blinded by the light,

revved up like a deuce,

another runner in the night

Madman drummers bummers,

Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat

In the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat

With a boulder on my shoulder,

feelin’ kinda older,

I tripped the merry-go-round

With this very unpleasin’,

sneezin’ and wheezin,

the calliope crashed to the ground

But she was…

Blinded by the light,

revved up like a deuce,

another runner in the night…

I’m sorry, Manfred Mann.  Your lyrics are so non-sensical that the majority of the world thinks that “revved up like a deuce” is actually “wrapped up like a douche,” and honestly, does it matter which is which?  Your version doesn’t make any more sense than ours.

Timbaland- “The Way I Are”

Verse 2:

I ain’t got no money

I ain’t got no car to take you on a date

I can’t even buy you flowers

But together we could be the perfect soulmates

Talk to me girl


Baby if you strip, you can get a tip

‘Cause I like you just the way you are

I’m about to strip, and I want it quick

Can you handle me the way I are?

You don’t needs the cheese or the car keys

Girl I like you just the way you are

Let me see you strip, you can get a tip

‘Cause I like yah, like yah, like yah, like yah

Timbaland really knows how to sweep a girl off her feet with this grammatical failure of a song that seems to be saying, “I like you so much as a person that I’ll tip you if you strip for me.” Uh… where do I sign up?

Billy Ray Cyrus- “Achy Breaky Heart”

You can tell my arms:

Go back into the farm!

You can tell my feet

to hit the floor.

You can tell my lips

to tell my fingertips,

they won’t be reaching out

for you no more.


But don’t tell my heart,

my achy breaky heart,

I just don’t think he’d understand.

And if you tell my heart,

my achy breaky heart,

he might blow up and kill this man!

…All I can say is that I wish your achy breaky heart would blow up and kill me every time I hear this song, Billy Ray Cyrus.

This country is so chock full of lyrical geniuses that I continue to be surprised when new artists are able to top those that came before them.  Who are some of your faves?