Monday, July 14, 2008

Music Video Of The Day: Love Rollercoaster

Sorry, Chili Peppers, you can't touch this. Don't miss the dancers -- a weird mix of mime, Urkel and "What's Happenin'" rejects.

Oh yeah, this is the song where a woman got killed during the recording session, and you can hear her screams in the background. She was doing Pop Rocks and Coke with Mikey from the Life cereal commercial. They both died.


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Vid Of The Day: Spaceship Gag

This has to be from Europe. Thanks, Harmony, for the link.


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26 Celebrity Albums I Won't Be Buying

Who told these motherfuckers to sing?


We don't have to ask Burt what he is. It's fairly obvious.


It looks like he's reading the lyrics off a crib sheet, but everybody knows Tony can't read


Songs From The Pompous Windbag


Song 1: Shut The FUCK Up!
Song 2: Get Off The Goddamn Stage!
Song 3: Kill Him!
etc.
Little known fact to ruin your day: Jim "Gomer Pyle" Nabors and Will "Grandpa Walton" Geer were lovers. No, I'm not kidding. Talk about a lemon party.


You know how sometimes you can just look at the cover of a record and know it's gonna be good? Yeah, this isn't one of those.


A.k.a. Joe Pesci. Don't let him catch you calling this record "funny."


Hoooooooo doggy, he sucks


Mommy, make it stop


I actually bought this one already.


They had to put "produced by Jack White" on the cover because they knew no one would buy it otherwise


Only us old folks will get this one. Chad was on "Medical Center" in the '70s. He rocked the hair flap like nobody else.


Do "Uhura" the sound of dying animals? No, it's just this record.


This one I want.


Buy my record album, baby, or I'll pistol whip you like a Times Square pimp. Then I'll take a big puff on my Backwoods Smoke and blow it in your face. Who loves ya, baby?


LaWanda Page was Aunt Esther on "Sanford & Son"


I've heard some of this, and the twins are much more annoying than Corky


You haven't lived until you've heard Leonard Nimoy sing.


Young And In Love... with myself. (Ralph was the little brother on "Good Times.")


Reeg! He actually has a pretty good voice. I have one of his songs on my iPod.


Cabot: Mr. French on "Family Affair" and the voice of Bagheera the panther in "Jungle Book." Dylan: High as a kite when he agreed to this.


Commandment 1: Shut up, fool!
Commandment 2: Repeat Commandment 1.


You can almost smell the hilarity coming off the record jacket, can't you?


Theo, completely lost in his own sense of awesomeness.


Where's a high-speed police chase when you need one?


Current fuckhat


Don: "I'm looking for a hearrrrrrtbeat.."
Cary: I'm looking for a baseball bat


That smirk says, "Yeah, I can't sing, so what? I'm a movie star. Fuck you."

Two more from my buddy Blong, who owns them both.


Says Blong: "Jerry....just sings. Believe me, that's enough."


Blong: "Bob does a pretty good job with the calypso, at least for a bad ass middle-aged rummy white guy. This cd also contains "Thunder Road" as a bonus."

Commercial Of The Day

Another SNL classic.



Dubious Lyrics From Nonsensical Songs Of The Day

From Blender.com, by genre.



POP:
Fergie, “Big Girls Don’t Cry”

Totally dubious lyric
: “It’s time to be a big girl now/And big girls don’t cry.”

Cold hard fact
: Big girls cry all the damn time; crying, in fact, seems to be their default physiological response to adversity or extreme excitement. They cry on The View. They cry in The Muppet Movie. They cry when they accept Al Reynolds’ well-manicured hand in marriage. And did you see the Rutgers women’s basketball players during "L’Affaire Imus"? Waterworks, baby. Had Fergie sang, say, “Big Girls Don’t Wear a Size Two, Like Me,” she might’ve been onto something.



HIP-HOP: MIMS, “This Is Why I’m Hot"

Totally dubious lyric
: “This is why I’m hot/Shorty see the drop/Ask me what I paid and I say yea I paid a quap.”

Cold hard fact
: A “quap,” street slang for a quarter-pound of marijuana, is not generally recognized as legal tender in the United States, its territories or its overseas fiefdoms. And even if it were, attributing one’s hotness to the ability to complete an exchange of goods for services seems illogical at best. Perhaps MIMS should instead dote on his “mad” rhyming skills.



HAIR METAL Poison, “Every Rose Has Its Thorn"

Totally dubious lyric
: “Every rose has its thorn/Just like every night has its dawn/Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song.”

Cold hard fact
: Every night (defined by Merriam-Webster Online as “the time from dusk to dawn when no sunlight is visible”) has its dawn (“the first appearance of light in the morning followed by sunrise”) — that part checks out. However, according to Wikipedia, not every rose has a thorn: “While the sharp objects along a rose stem are commonly called ‘thorns,’ they are actually prickles — outgrowths of the epidermis (the outer layer of tissue of the stem) … A few species of roses only have vestigial prickles that have no points.” And many cowboys — notably Roy Rogers, who signed off to the tune of “Happy Trails” — prefer to exit on a high note, rather than a serio-tragic one. Yup.



FOLK:
Scott McKenzie, “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)"

Totally dubious lyric
: “If you’re going to San Francisco/Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair/If you’re going to San Francisco/You’re gonna meet some gentle people there.”

Cold hard fact
: According to the final FBI 2005 crime reports , you’re more likely to meet a grisly end in San Francisco than score some kind bud. The city boasts 12.8 murders per 100,000 people, compared with the national average of 6.9 and New York City’s 6.6, and 410.9 robberies against the national mark of 195.4 and New York’s 304.6.

Suggested new lyric
: “If you’re going to San Francisco/Be sure to refill the mace canister and put your affairs in order, bitch.”




ADULT CONTEMPORARY: Whitney Houston, “Greatest Love of All”

Totally dubious lyric: “I believe the children are the future/Teach them well and let them lead the way.”

Cold hard fact
: The extremely, extremely long and virtually unparsable Child Welfare Policy Manual, brought to us by our pals at the Department of Health & Human Services’ Administration for Children and Families ( DOHHSAFCAF, for short), believes otherwise. It stresses, in no uncertain terms, that Little Jimmy should not be making leadership decisions or any others that affect his welfare. If you allow him to do so and he happens to wander onto the nearby overpass, he’ll be shipped off to live with his maternal grandparents before the medical bills start arriving. Teach the kids, sure, but don’t give them navigational responsibilities until they’re old enough to pay for their own damn defense attorneys.



BLUES:
Muddy Waters, “Rollin’ Stone”

Totally dubious lyric
: “Well, I wish I was a catfish, swimmin’ in a oh, deep, blue sea/I would have all you good-lookin’ women fishin’, fishin’ after me.”

Cold hard fact
: Women don’t fish a whole lot. In fact, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, women account for a mere 33 percent of all freshwater anglers. Of that 33 percent, what percentage would you estimate was/is attractive — five percent, tops? If being reeled in by a beauty is his greatest desire, Mr. Waters would be better served to wish he were a blouse sitting on a Filene’s Basement discount rack.



COUNTRY:
Brad Paisley, “Ticks”

Totally dubious lyric
: “I’d like to walk you through a field of wildflowers/And I’d like to check you for ticks.”

Cold hard fact
: Checking for ticks should be left to certified medical professionals. According to this guy we know who’s, like, a conservationist or something, soft ticks live in crevices — which means that Mr. Paisley’s romantic evening might involve digging of a decidedly different sort than he envisions. And to remove the hard ticks that attach to a host’s skin, tweezers are generally required. SeXXXy! Why not sip some barn-produced moonshine and smack each other about the torso with hay rakes to complete the mood?



REGGAE: Damian Marley, “Welcome to Jamrock”

Cold hard fact
: “Welcome to Jamrock, camp where the thugs they camp at/Two pounds a weed inna van bag/It inna your handbag, your knapsack, it inna your backpack/The smell a-give your girlfriend contact.”

Speciousness
: Let’s not assume too much about that contact high, fella. According to Yahoo! Answers sage “Jammin246” — as evidenced by her tag, clearly a Marley fan — contact highs are influenced by any number of variables. How physically proximate were you to the joker/smoker/midnight toker? How big are you? What kind of ventilation was there in the venue-of-doobie? If you’re a fat bastard who sat in a small room with sealed windows while somebody else fired up, you’re screwed, basically.




WUSS ROCK:
John Denver, “Rocky Mountain High”

Totally dubious lyric
: “And the Colorado Rocky Mountain high/I’ve seen it raining fire in the sky/The shadows from the starlight are softer than a lullaby.”


Cold hard fact: Starlight doesn’t throw shadows across Denver’s wussish terrain so much as the moon does — and even if it did, it has no audible qualities that would encourage comparison with a lullaby. And the infrequent meteor shower notwithstanding, which may look like raining fire if viewed from a distance and/or if the observer is chemically influenced, rain is by definition limited to liquid form. Science limits the imagination, doesn’t it? Meanwhile, maybe we chose the wrong wimpoid John Denver lyric. In “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” he describes West Virginia as “almost heaven.” Well, sure it is — if you’re a fugitive.

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