I Can't Forget the Lyrics, Holiday Redux

I've been meaning to write this forever, but sometimes...life, man. Whatever. It's pretty boring. I got a promotion! Because my boss moved away, but I'm sort of killing it regardless, so it counts. Anyway, I've been distracted. Until now! I've been compiling my Year End Spotify Playlist, which I just capitalized the first letter of each word like it's a fancy thing I do each year. It's not. But it is a wonderful opportunity to revisit some lyrics I loved, loved to hate, or absolutely did not understand.

My Story -  R Kelly f/ 2 Chains
Problematic Lyric: This is my story/yeah I'm from that Chi town dirt/I went from being broke/To sleeping in Versace shirts.

I don't so much have a problem with this as I do a question: Does R. Kelly own a drawer full of Versace nightshirts? (Are there Versace nightshirts? Can someone get Kanye to design theVersace nightshirt?) Or does he simply end most days by passing out in the Versace top he'd been sporting all day? Either option is delightful.

Also, his new album is amazing, if simply (like most things R Kelly related) for the mere fact of its existence. At one point he claims that every baby in the 90s was conceived to his music. Which might not be entirely off-base.

Fine China - Chris Brown
Problematic Lyric: It's alright/I'm not dangerous.

I hate Chris Brown. And I REALLY hate that he makes catchy ass music that I car-dance to a whole bunch before I realize what's happening. This track is like, particularly wrong, though.
He's just lying. Look at that - I'm not dangerous.
Oh, really, Chris Brown? You're not? Are you not the same dude who beat up your girlfriend and then got a COMMEMORATIVE NECK TATTOO OF THE EVENT? Fuck you.

How Many Drinks? Miguel f/ Kendrick Lamar
Problematic lyric: How many drinks would it take you to leave with me?/Yeah, you look good and I got money/But I don’t wanna waste my time/Back of my mind I’m hoping you say two or three/You look good, we came to party/But I don’t wanna waste my time

This song raises like, a host of red flags. First, as Kyle and I have repeatedly discussed: ladies love Miguel. Like, we love Miguel. And why shouldn't we? He makes jams. His hairstyles are consistently creative. When he was a guest coach on The Voice, he seemed like a legitimately lovely young man. He is the best. And he knows what ladies like! We like him. Anyway, this song has me wondering if he realizes all this. Also, if maybe he needs to look elsewhere for ladies. And also like maybe when he's at the club he's sort of a panicky jerk. Let's break this down:
a) How many drinks, Miguel? Zero drinks. It will take zero drinks to get that lady home. It sounds like you're in a club, so she's probably already had a drink. You're fine. You're Miguel! No one needs to drink to want to spend time with you. I bet your shoes are amazing.
b) Are you on a schedule, Miguel? Time management seems like an issue for you. Not money, though. I don't really understand this dynamic.
c) Miguel, this seems like a terrible strategy. Biggie told you: let that other guy go buy the wine, then creep up from behind and ask her what her interests are, who she's there with. You know - things to make her smile, and what numbers to dial. Don't make her guess at a magic number of drinks like it's a fucking carnival game. And what if she wants four drinks? Is that okay? What if she's like 'five drinks'? Besides the fact that she's drunk now, is that a deal breaker? She needs to know beforehand, exactly how many drinks?
d) Wait, is this normal? Do people walk around the club assigning How Many Drinks to other patrons? I am so happy I never go out anymore.
e) I don't know. Miguel says he came to party, but I really wish he would just like, hang out and enjoy the night. This all sounds really stressful.

Bad - Wale f/ Tiara Thomas
Problematic Lyric: Not the lyrics - just the metal bedspring that creaks in the background throughout the entirety of the song.

WTF is happening in this song. Are they in an abandoned house? Is this mattress from the 70s? Wale. Aren't you a rapper? DON'T YOU HAVE A POSTUREPEDIC?


BEYONCE*.
There is a new Beyonce album. I haven't bought it yet, because I think iTunes is stupid and I won't watch any of those videos more than once, but it's fine because Beyonce can do whatever the hell she wants. It is a completely true fact, that every emotion you've ever had about a boy, Beyonce has a song for. EVERY EMOTION. I love her. She completes me.

I'm sure I'll love the whole thing, but for now I've only heard what they've played on Hot 97's morning show:

Drunk in Love f/ Jay-Z: I have no idea what's going on here, other than Beyonce and Jay have a fucking WEIRD TIME when they drink, and they seem to enjoy the hell out of it. From what I can put together, they wake up on the kitchen floor post-blackout, continue drinking, retire to a half-filled bathtub for some adult time - for which 'surfboarding' is apparently the chosen euphemism in the Knowles-Carter household - then Jay Z eats her boobs for breakfast.

Obviously I prefer the Jay of a simpler time, when he boasted about acquiring Magnavox television sets, rather than his personal art collection and Twitter beef. That said, dude is a grown ass man and has nothing to prove to me. But it is really nice to know that even if he isn't popping Molly (ugh**) he's still down to occasionally get inappropriately drunk with his wife and make what sounds like an ungodly mess for the staff to clean up the next day.

Mine f/ Drake: Is this a song about post-partum depression? An emotional trial I've never had! Beyonce is a GENIUS AND WE'RE LUCKY SHE SHARES HER EXPERIENCES TO BETTER PREPARE US FOR OUR OWN LIVES. Also, I suppose if I were to pick any male artist to collaborate on a song about post-partum depression, it would totally be Drake. Well done, Bey.

Merry Christmas and shit!



*That Beyonce and R Kelly released new albums within two weeks of each other is my Christmas Miracle.
**I think my deeply judgy attitudes regarding Molly can be chalked up to some old lady hater issues, since it really came on the scene after the time in my life where I'll be trying any new drugs. Like, that's it - I'm not going to be trying any new fun shit. My body simply can't take it. My body recently brought to my attention that I can't even drink through hangovers anymore. That's off the table. Getting older is sort of like slowly realizing you're a superhero, except your abilities are only revealed as you lose them. I think Molly represents all of that for me. 

I CAN'T Forget the Lyrics

This morning I woke up in a mood so fabulous I was like "it must be Friday!" Not exactly, but kind of, because on real-Friday (tomorrow, would be an easier way to say that) I'm driving Baylor and myself up to the 413 for the first time in a YEAR, and I'm kind over the moon about it.

First, of course, I have to make a few stops outside Poughkeepsie and New Britain to take some pictures for work, and I am almost guaranteed to get lost, because at the rental car counter, I'll reason: 'You know what, I am an independent lady with a fresh stack of GoogleMap printouts, so I don't need to rent that GPS for the week'. So, tomorrow, some of you might get call from me-in-tears, reaching out from the wilds of Western Connecticut because I'm lost and I'm hungry and I really have to pee. You'll only have to help me with the first part, but I get really emotional when I have an empty stomach and a full bladder, so you'll hear a lot about those last bits. Get excited!

That probably sounds like a really shitty time, but it won't be, because I will be listening to the radio. I know, who listens to the radio? I do. I fucking love the radio. Hot 97 - or whatever the regional variation on that station is - makes me so happy. I love bad r&b. I love mainstream hip-hop. I love how bad r&b and mainstream hip-hop are actually good sometimes. I love all of it.

But sometimes (often) I get so caught up in the catchiness of a jam, it takes me like, eighty-five listens to realize that it makes absolutely no sense. And then I obsess about how nonsensical it is, and that's really fun for me because I'm a nerd. Usually this happens in my head, or only to the people in my life lucky enough to get one of those 'I am lost in central New York and I just drove to the LITERAL end of a road, like it just ENDED, and I have to pee so much and all I've had to eat today was blueberries and I think I sat on one, so now maybe the back of my dress is stained, oh my god, I can't pee outside, where AM I???" (Pops, I'm kidding. This never happens. Ever.)

Anyway, these three that are so straight-up befuddling, I thought I'd share.

1) Bedrock - Young Money

Yeah, I realize this was on the radio a billion years ago. So I have been pondering the following lyric for approximately a billion years.

Nicki Minaj's verse: "Okay, I guess it's my turn/Time to put this pussy on your sideburns."

I'm sorry, what? I mean, I am open minded as shit, but that particular sex act makes no damn sense. Does she mean like, she's a female MC, so open up your ears as she delivers vaginally-powered rhymes? That's as much as I can do with that one. But even that's unsatisfying, because if that's what she was going for, couldn't she just have rhymed 'year' with 'ear' instead of 'turn' with 'burns'? I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE DOING WITH YOUR VAGINA, NICKI. I mean, not like it's really my business, but you were the one who brought up sideburns time.

2) Five O'Clock In the Morning - T.Pain, Lily Allen, Wiz Khalifa

Okay, this entire SONG makes no sense. WHO IS TALKING TO WHO? I get that they may all be telling a different story, but even the thread linking them together is madness. Like, okay:

"It's 5:00 in the morning, the conversation got boring." Okay, I'm with you.

"You said you'd go into bed soon/So I snuck off to your bedroom" Wait, in the middle of the conversation? In which the intention to go to bed soon was announced? That's abrupt. And wait, whose bedroom? Boring Conversation Guy's? Why don't you just go together? Anyway, that's hardly sneaking, because...wait, where are you having this conversation? Near the bedroom? Are you at a house party or something? Because later Wiz talks about coming home from the club, so...did you abandon the conversation, drive to your man's house, and then like, break in? Whatever's happening, this is the most poorly executed 'sneak off' in history.

"And I thought I'd just wait there/Until I heard you come up the stairs/And I pretended I was sleeping/And I was hoping you would creep in..." WHAT ELSE WOULD HAPPEN? Dude TOLD YOU he was going to bed soon. Also, this is his bedroom. Just get into bed authoritatively, man. LILY'S OBVIOUSLY NOT ASLEEP YET, it's been like, thirty seconds. Unless she just passed the hell out, in which case, there's no need to creep.

T-Pain and Wiz do not go on to shed any light on the matter. I just hope these three never get accused of a crime, because they cannot construct a coherent narrative.

3) I Love My Bitches - Rick Ross

I cannot tell you how much time I've spent thinking about this lyric:

"Am I really just a narcissist/Because I wake up to a bowl of lobster bisque?"

Well, the simple answer is no, man, you're cool. A penchant for cream-based shellfish soups is mentioned nowhere in the definition of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. (Actually, I think they might have taken NPD out of the most recent DSM entirely? Doesn't matter. Bisque consumption is not a criteria. )

Now that we've got that cleared up -- what the fuck kind of question is this? Where in the world does lobster bisque come off as a narcissistic thing to eat? The only way this question makes ANY sense is if Rick Ross is entirely confused about the definition of either 'narcissism' or 'lobster bisque'. Or both.

A more appropriate lyric might have been 'Do you think I need a nutritionist/Because I wake up to a bowl of lobster bisque?' Seriously, Rick. Lobster bisque for breakfast? You really want a heavy, cream-based sodium bomb to start the day? Or do you wake up from naps to bisque? Either way. I don't know how you expect to keep running through jungles on that diet.

And I've been operating under the assumption that this bisque is being served to you, but alternately, if you're passing out mid-bowl, you can't just wake up and resume eating the bisque, Rick. You need to refrigerate that shit. Food poisoning is not boss.

Seriously, this is the shit that goes on in my head. So surprising I get lost all the time, right?

What Are You Looking For?

Google Search History for the Week of February 6, 2012

- Hickey Spoon Trick

- Cilantro Lemon Hummus

- Washington DC Animal Shelter

- Does anyone else eat half an apple at a time, or does everyone eat the whole damn apple at once? (Sometimes when I'm feeling too crazy to ask another human being a question, I ask Google)

- Beyonce Discography

- I have a ton of cilatro recipes

- Can you buy just a handful of Xanax at a time anywhere?

- Tribe documentary Michael Rappaport

- 30 Rock Writers

- Do individual slices of cake need to be refrigerated?

- Pretty Woman Flossing Bathroom Scene (These search results were way less weird than they could have been)

- Eat Your Vegetables Saturday Morning Cartoon (Does anyone remember this? The veggies, and maybe some cheese and a glass of milk like, march along the table? It was the shit. I can't find it anywhere)

- Can you make Hummus in a Blender? (You can.)

- Children's Book Awards 2011

- What time does SuperBowl 2012 start

- Where My Killa Tape

It was a weird week.

One of the Many, Many Who Sip Henny

More Disturbing:

That the newly released 'Best of Ja Rule' album exists, or that I know almost every word to every song included in said Ja compilation?

**Okay, there are so many hilarious pictures unearthed by the Google Image search 'Ja Rule be Trippin', but this one of Ja in a tiny mirrored space is one of my favorites. Why are you in a tiny mirrored space, Ja? Where on Earth could this possibly be? WHAT DID YOU DO WITH ASHANTI? Seriously, Ja, where is she? Lady should be singing hooks somewhere. Wouldn't it be awesome if she went and found LL Cool J and they did a song for Ludacris to do a crazy remix of? And even the non-remixed version is sort of awesome because the video has Uncle L doing push ups under a waterfall while Ashanti lounges on his back, and they play it on Vh1 Soul all the time?

Yeah, I don't know what we're talking about anymore, either. Someone find Ja Rule so we can make sense of all this!

**I just spent a LOT of time Googling Ja Rule.

Best Of List, Yo!

So like, three people read this blog. I think my mom even stopped because I quit updating it for eight months, and she totally has better shit to be doing on the internets. Even so, people do end up here.

The Most Awesome Search Terms Used in Finding My Sporadically Updated, Cabernet-Soaked Blog:

I hope you all found what you were looking for, eventually. These are in a semi-particular order.

'Sex Mimosas and Donkey Com'

I don't know what Donkey expectorate they misspelled, and I don't want to. Okay, I know. We all know. I think this combination is known in some circles as a Tijuana Brunch. Even if they were talking about video games. Tijuana's crazy.

'Labeled Diagram of Mimosa Fruit'

So...maybe just Google 'Orange'? Sometimes a classy joint will impale a strawberry on the side of the glass. I don't know, it usually involves Cook's or Andre. You need a diagram?

'Bonectomy on Toe'

Wha? Does that mean taking the bone out of your toe? So you'd just have like, a squashy skin-grape at the end of your foot? Why would you search for something this grave and then click on a blog? I am so embarrassed that I've used the word 'bonectomy' on the internet.

'2011 NCAA Tournament Results'

How deeply did you Google these results that you ended up at this post on my (Never) Award Winning NCAA pool strategy? (Fucking TRY IT. It's fun. And you will have so many weird conversations with dudes in bars on this. People have OPINIONS about which imaginary creatures would win in a fight.)

(Sidebar: Why does Everclear have a Greatest Hits album? Can you name three Everclear songs? If you said yes, just - get out of here. Or go wait in the corner over there until we're through. Seriously, that's awful.)

'Lynn Dorms'

There are dorms in Lynn? Are there even enough high school graduates in Lynn to populate a dorm? Ohhh! Just kidding. One of my grandmothers was from Brockton. I can't say shit. I might have even just made up that stereotype about Lynn. But...I don't think I did.

'Tom Tancock'

Yes! I will happily glorify any reference to the 2008 Olympics. Controversies aside, those Olympics were the shit.

'Angry Rocket Play Therapy'

This is probably a better band name than Rocketship of Intelligence, but I feel like it's totally not the sound we were going for.

'They Call Me USHER RAYMOND'

You're damn right.

'Bingo's Dream Dorm'

When the shit did I write about dorms this much? (Oh wait. The Meadow Soprano time.) More importantly - what is Bongo's Dream Dorm like?!?! I hope you found it, searching friend. Sounds like it could be a weird time.

'Follow the Drinking Gourd Fake'

BLASPHEMY. Go sit in the corner with the guy who knows all the Everclear songs!

'Tom Bergeron Eats Chips'

Who searched for this and DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED?

(Yeah, I still have a Tom Bergeron thing.)

'Yinka Shonibare Child Obsessive Alien'

I don't know what the shit this is about, but holy band name. My lord. (Originally, this one was ALL IN CAPS but I felt like I needed to calm down. I have to go to bed soon. Seriously, though, this is awesome. But I'm never searching for it on my own. I don't want to know.)

* I don't know what the hell this picture is about. I searched for 'best search terms ever'. Google Image is my favorite.

Mascot Challenge 2011!!!

It's not that I don't know anything about college basketball. It's more like: The NCAA tournament is such a wonderfully bizarre, unpredictable sporting event, I don't know how a person could enjoy themselves if they actually sat down and tried to predict what 'should' happen. So I just try to figure out what mascots would win in a fight. I've been doing this for years - and fully committed to it the year the Wichita State Shockers pulled exactly as many upsets as I'd predicted, based on the awesomeness of their mascot.

And also: yeah, I pay almost zero attention to college basketball during the regular season. Currently, I'm 8th out of 71. But I have no shot unless the Gators take the whole thing. I really, really counted on the angry drunken Irish mob mentality to show up and defeat the Seminoles. So close to St. Patrick's Day! Damn my sentimentality towards my heritage. I should have known those bastards would be too hungover on Sunday to get much of anything done.

Rolling Like the Homeless...

Do you ever spy someone wandering around the city, and then find yourself unable to determine whether that particular individual is homeless, or if they've just been travelling for an extremely long time and are having, like, a really tough go of it?

.

It happens to me almost daily. It doesn't help that I walk through Boston Common on my way to work every morning - a place populated by peoples in various states of homelessness, as well as hippies, students, demonstrators of ranging passions, tour guides dressed in colonial garb, worker bees eating lunch, wild children, harried nannies, and lost tourists evidencing different levels of distress.

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So I mean, there's really no way to know, with certainty, whether that dude is homeless, or if his luggage just totally sucks and he had to wrap his suitcase with twine somewhere in Iowa after the group of German house musicians he was hitch-hiking with parted ways. And that lady might be homeless, or she might just be having the worst time finding the airport EVER. And what is THAT DUDE's deal? Why is he sticking his entire head in that faucet? To wash it? To get water? Because he isn't able to do those things indoors? Or because it's been approximately 400 degrees for most of the summer, and one's hydration-situation can get pretty dire in a hurry? Oooh, although that's no reason to be sleeping on a piece of cardboard under a tree! Wait, but is someone filming you? Fucking Emerson kids.

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So then...what is homeless, anyway? What are the parameters? Why do I obsess over this stuff? Especially when it completely, totally doesn't matter? Because, in the end, you can't determine that kind of status with any real certainty?* I guess it's better than obsessing over something I saw last night on E News. Or what Frances Rivera was wearing on the Real News, even though that is admittedly, really fun to obsess over.

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You know what? All I can do is control my own actions. I'm just going to buy some really top-notch luggage and hope I avoid confusing people. You all can choose your obsessions accordingly. Just...don't let those Emerson kids record your image for too long, okay? I think they might be trying to capture your soul.

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*I take that back, I think. Because if all of your shit** is in a shopping cart, that's a pretty reliable indicator of...domestic flexibility.

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** If 'all of your shit' translates to 'garbage bags full of aluminum cans', then you have bigger problems than I'm ready to address right now. I'm sorry.

Band Names, As Inspired by the 2008 Summer Olympic Games

- The Elementary Backstroke

- The Crazed BeeKeeper Outfits

- Panda Babymaking

- Like He Knows What a Whitman's Sampler is, You Fucking Lesbian.

- Bob Costas' Boner

- Pieter van der Hoogenband

- Tancock, of Britain

- On a Completely Unrelated Note, I'm Hard.

- Sewer Rat Love Product

- In Re: An Ugly French Swimmer

- I Think My Mom Could Probably Anchor This Relay