Sunday, January 10, 2010
Anyway, my dad had the ‘love’ station playing while he was working in the garage. (Not joking, he really did have it on, and why wouldn’t Sirius have a ‘love’ station?) So ‘I Want It That Way’ by the Backstreet Boys was playing. (waiting for your teenage screams to end….and now.)
Let’s take a look at these lyrics, shall we? I think I’ll post the actual lyrics, and a little story to go along with them because it sounds fun. Original lyrics are on the left...my "interpretations" are on the right. Yes, hello Captain Obvious.
And for the record....I'm not a fan of HTML....no really.
"I Want It That Way"
You are my fire..........................Why thank you.
The one desire...........................I am the desire?
Believe when I say.......................I’m listening.
I want it that way.......................What way? The rhyming way?
But we are two worlds apart..............Like from sea to shining sea?
Can't reach to your heart................K, I don’t know you that well.
When you say.............................Time out. I didn’t say anything.
That I want it that way..................But I don’t want it that way.
Tell me why..............................I’d rather not.
Ain't nothin' but a heartache............What heartache? Oh, you get attached easily.
Tell me why..............................We’ve already discussed this.
Ain't nothin' but a mistake..............Oh, mistake and heartache. Clever.
Tell me why..............................Now, I’m just getting angry.
I never wanna hear you say...............I reiterate myself. I didn’t say anything.
I want it that way.......................WHAT WAY?
Am I your fire...........................No, I met you once. At a gas station.
Your one desire..........................GAS STATION.
Yes I know it's too late.................There you go again, talking nonsense.
But I want it that way...................Good for you. Whatever way that is.
Now I can see that we're falling apart...I repeat myself. We were never together.
From the way that it used to be, yeah....You want to pump gas again?
No matter the distance...................Cue sunset. Now you’re talking gibberish.
I want you to know.......................I don’t care to know.
That deep down inside of me..............Ok, I really, really don’t care to know. TMI
You are my fire..........................Ok, I’m getting a restraining order.
The one desire...........................500 yards mister.
You are..................................Complete your thought. Not near you?
You are, you are, you are................Don’t let the CD skip. It’s annoying.
Don't wanna hear you say.................Restraining order?
Ain't nothin' but a heartache............No, heartache.
Ain't nothin' but a mistake..............For stalking me? Yes, a mistake.
(Don't wanna hear you say)...............I never said anything.
I never wanna hear you say...............Really? You’ve got nothing better.
I want it that way.......................You have it that way, with someone else.
Tell me why..............................Not talking to you, 500 yards.
Ain't nothin' but a heartache............Ain’t ain’t a word.
Tell me why..............................Stop talking.
Ain't nothin but a mistake...............No really.
Tell me why..............................I don’t know what else to say to you.
I never wanna hear you say...............You won’t. Read the restraining order
(Don't wanna hear you say it)............I won’t.
I want it that way.......................You can have it your way okay?
I want it that way.......................I’m never going to that gas station again.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Today’s search: Halloween costumes.
I skipped all the obvious ones, you know the ones with penises all over them. They’re just well, soooo last year I guess. Although, I do have memories of a giant penis waking around my college campus with a ‘Free Hugs’ sign around his neck.
And I’m not going to get into the whole Halloween is just an excuse to dress sexy. We all know this and it doesn’t need to be run into the ground.
I did come across a lot of ‘let’s-make-fun-of-the-boner thing’. You know, the inappropriate priest and some kind of genie with his ‘lamp’ in front of his nether region. Nonetheless, it was a long genie lamp. Both were actual costumes.
Oh, and what is with the trend that has every other man dressed up as a woman?
Anyway, I digress.
Here are some I found that expresses laziness in creativity or just obvious costumes.
“Oh hey Jimmy, did you see what Robbie is?”
“No, not really”
“He’s an effing ‘sperm bank!”
“Oh man, he is such a genius! I like his hair too.”
The standard breathalyzer costume. I get it, you're being pulled over with a flashlight in your face that's burning out your retinas. And those wonderful words, “Ma’am I need you to step out of the car please.”
Wait, you want me to blow where? Oh, got it, thanks, you’re so funny. Maybe you should try those girls attempting to do shots off the carpet.
Okay, wait, what are you again? I’m so dumb, I forgot to actually read what you are. I apologize. Have you met Jimmy and Robbie?
“Hey man, guess what I’m gonna be for Halloween?”
“I don’t know Robbie, what?”
“A marijuana leaf!”
“Ah no way, that is so dope!”
Hello I’m desperate? That’s all I have to say, oh and why the question marks? We’re not Self confident? Not Creative? Obvious?
You are so much cooler because you have an actual fifty cent piece attached like a bullet proof vest. But why is there a baseball player’s face on the front of it? And your doo rag just makes me believe it that much more.
Oh!! Killer ‘bee’, not ‘B’. You’re so witty. And thanks for the ‘grime’ on your face. It helps with the “realness” of your costume. Were you the one taking shots off the 'carpet' earlier?
So did you just look in your rear view mirror one day and think “Perfect!?” Or was it just a hike through the forest that made your heart sing?
All pictures were actual costumes and are found on www.amazon.com.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
For some odd and unexplained reason I am enthralled with clichés; where they come from, what their meanings are, etc. But mainly I’m interested in their complete literal meaning because they just make me chuckle.I think it’s because I’ve steered away from them when writing anything. They’re just, I don’t know, cliché. Here are a few that I picked out of a hat, not literally, just figuratively. Yeah, wrap your brain around that one for a few.
(And I have no idea why some of my fonts are different or the same size. I don't speak Html that well, so get over it.)
I can’t just decipher your inhibitions or what you might want to eat. I need specifics. Do you need to eat a noble steed, a spotted mare or a miniature pony? Or are we just completely off the mark and you meant to say donkey instead? Oh, and I don’t have the time prepare one tonight. It’s been a long day. If you’re that hungry, you’ve got more issues that someone addicted to supersizing everything at McDonalds.Side note : So the whole everything-tastes-like-chicken claim? Completely true. While on a trip to France, we were served what looked like chicken. Found out later (much later) that it was, yes, horse. Or if you want to get real fancy, cheveaux. Apparently I was so hungry that I ate a horse, well part of one for that matter. I guess I better get to supersizing.
[Picture-definitely something a horse would eat, does that count?]
Yeah, this is for all you ‘non-commital’ types. One of you made this cliché up so there would be some excuse to not be there in the morning after a booty call or one night stand. (These aren’t the same but that’s a completely different blog all together) Being the teen obsessed with *NSYNC, to me it’s just an album name. But to each his own.But let’s think about actually having strings attached. Inconvenient. I mean how would you be able to get dressed in the morning with strings coming out of your hands and feet. Reminds me of Spiderman a bit, not the Emo version (Venom or whatever) but actual Spiderman.
[Picture-*NSYNC and their 'strings'...swoon...ahem I mean, that was a long time ago.]
Ok, this one is hard because I always have cold feet. Maybe I should stop wearing flip-flops in the winter. Anyway, how could someone accuse me of having cold feet when it is a recurrent thing?But I could see how it would be hard to get married, go in for that job interview or talk to that oh-so-cute guy in the bar if your feet are cold. The brain can only focus on so much and let me tell you if your feet are cold, your brain won’t focus on those vows, interview questions or flirtatious attitude from Mr. Oh-So-Cute. I should call him back.
[Picture-My cold feet sans pedicure...I should get on that.]
What box? Where is it? I don’t get it. Why does it have to be a box?
What’s so wrong with the shape of a soup can or chip bag? (Why food, I don’t know, is it lunch yet?)
First, making ‘thinking outside the box’ a cliché isn’t really ‘thinking outside the box’, now is it? Oh what up now Cliché Master? See right now I’m thinking outside the box because what I’m writing makes no sense. Hgjr skgfh eeihs. Ssjei.<----These ‘words’ are definitely not contained within said box. Therefore, my mind has overcome itself by thinking outside itself? Okay, I’m confused and feeling too existential.
[Picture-Tramp Stamp of Hannah Montana screams 'thinking out of the box'.]
When Hell freezes over
Woo hoo! Ice skating party! No? Damn, and I bought new skates too.
How do we know that Hell isn’t frozen over already? I’m sure there have been many people who claim that something will happen ‘when Hell Freezes Over’. (i.e., I’ll date you, I’ll help you move, etc.) Now, I’m not a statistical guru or anything, but I’m sure many of these claims have come true or at least some. Therefore with statistical evidence, shouldn’t Hell already feel like a frozen tundra?
So get your skates and join me in the ultimate ice skating party! It’ll be fun, promise. Just ignore the big red mean looking guy. He’s a bit temperamental and has been threatening to take my soul or something.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
This guy had the full on black (maybe pinstriped?) fedora, a loose fitting, open button down shirt and comfortable "cool-guy" jeans. He even had the black coily hair. The only thing missing was the guitar. The entire time I was actually wondering why this guy didn't have his electric guitar swished behind his back, guitar pick in hand. Because of course, Carlos Santana carries his guitar with him everywhere.
Anyway, I get to the library. (I wasn't joking about the library thing.) I get the book I need and print some things off a computer. And then I see this familiar face behind a local newspaper. It was my new friend, Carlos Santana. I ended up staring at him (out of curiousity; I wasn't checking him out). And then I forgot I was staring at him. He looked right back at me probably wondering whay I was staring. Yes, I was caught. And no, it was not Carlos Santana. Not even close. But I had the look-a-like Carlos staring at me because I was curious. I wanted to ask him what it felt like to be Carlos Santana but I was in a library and my wit at that moment wasn't very quick.
And by the way, he was the perfect Monet. He looked like the real thing from far away, but the closer I got, he was nowhere near what I thought he was.
Monday, February 9, 2009
So this was taken in Palm Springs. This dude (ette) had a large crowd listening to his 'music'. Sorry, I don't believe that an electric violin with a back-up tape qualifies. Kenny G is even better then this guy. And dare I say it, even John Tesh. And how did (s)he even 'entertain' enough to draw a large crowd.
Wait, I forgot. Palm Springs. It was too dark for golf so the older people had to be 'entertained' somehow? This is my only theory. I don't have another explanation because frankly I don't care. Okay, so maybe I do care a bit, especially when I admit that Kenny G and John Tesh are better than this guy.
Maybe, he should try out for the next 300 movie. The "Behind The Music" special if all of them hadn't died. You know the one, that shows all the Spartans as older men with black capes, and growing out their hair just because they felt frisky that day. No electric violins needed.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Anyway, all of the rides are exciting and fun to me even though I've been on them a several times. Granted, there aren't crazy roller coasters but it's still fun.
I do have one quip with Disneyland however. I HATE Small World. Now, I don't hate a lot of things, but Small World is right up there with seal clubbers and Ann Coulter. In lieu of Small World opening after a long and absolutely wonderful absence, I have included a photo of me staring aimlessly at the puppet-like atmosphere.
Now, here I am wondering why the hell I'm looking at these wonderfully recreated cardboard flowers and expertly animated puppets. I'm sure this is halfway through the ride ahem, torture chamber experiment. Now halfway is 10 minutes. Yes, 10. Now some may claim that the ride is only 15 minutes long, but beware because to anyone sane it's actually 20 minutes. 20 minutes of the same song over and over and over again. No exaggerations. I'm not joking.
Like I said, it's on my hate list. I secretly wished (like full on shooting star wished) that while the ride was shut down there was some sort of freak accident. Fire, flood, volcano. Anything. But unfortunately whomever told me that shooting star wishes always come true was lying. Small World still opened to the public once again to torture future generations to come.
And on another note, one reason that the ride shut down to begin with was because they needed to remodel the boats. The boats were being weighed down too much because the people riding the boats were getting heavier and heavier. Congratulations America. So with that, Disneyland added an inch of water to the moat that the boats float in. Apparently it solved the probem. I think I'm going to drain the water completely from the moat so the ride will have to be shut down again. Maybe this time for good?
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Moving on. I personally believe these people are discussing the purple tulips in their field of view. They are whispering however because they believe the woman behind them is a spy. You see, the peace sign is an international sign for 'spy.' (Look it up, and if you can't find it, don't panic. Remember, the international word for 'spy' is a long kept CIA secret therefore you won't be able to look it up.)
See, purple tulips are a rarity in the country where the man and woman come from. Purple tulips mean great fortune and money in this other country. They are worth more than gold and sell on the black market for hundreds more.
The large camera is actually a transport devise for tulip stems, seeds and stamens. (Why stamens? Because they can.) These people will then use the tulip parts and plant them making thousands more than the original parts they had. These people will be millionaires if all goes to plan.
I do believe the plan is for these two to pretend like tourists and when nobody is looking, take samples of the prized purple tulip. They will then continue to walk around the museum. All around are lookouts for these tulip takers. All the lookouts have large cameras and wear ridiculous polo shirts. Standard protocol. And the perfect getaway. Everyone gets into a large Mercades M Class and takes off onto the highway.
The perfect plan.