Wednesday, June 28, 2006
A Complicated Song (as parodied by Weird Al)
Uh huh ... extra cheese
Uh huh, uh huh ... save a piece for me
Pizza party at your house
I went just to check it out
Nineteen extra larges
What a shame
No one came
Just us eatin' all alone
You said, "Take the pizza home"
"No sense lettin' all this go to waste"
So then I faced
Pizza all day
And every day
This cheese 'round the clock
Is gettin' me blocked
And I sure don't care
For irregularity
Tell me
Why'd you have to go and make me so constipated?
'Cause right now I'd do anything to just get my bowels evacuated
In the bathroom ... I sit and I wait and I strain
And I sweat and I clench and I feel the pain
Oh, should I take laxatives or have my colon irrigated?
No no no
I was feelin' pretty down
'Till my girlfriend came around
We're just so alike in every way
I gotta say
In fact, I just thought I might
Pop the question there that night
I was kissing her so tenderly
But woe is me
Who would have guessed
Her family crest
I'd suddely spy
Tattooed on her thigh
And son-of-a-gun
It's just like the one on me
Tell me
How was I supposed to know we were both related?
Believe me, if I knew she was my cousin we never would have dated
What to do now? Should I go ahead and propose
And get hitched and have kids with eleven toes
And move to Alabama where that kind of thing is tolerated?
No no no no no no no
No no no no no no no
No no no no no
I had so much on my mind
I thought maybe I'd unwind
Try out that new roller coaster ride
And the guide
Said not to stand
But that's a demand
That I couldn't meet
I got on my feet
And stood up instead
And knocked off my head, you see
Tell me
Why'd I have to go and get myself decapitated?
This really is a major inconvenience, oh man, I really hate it
Such a drag, now ... Can't eat, I can't breathe, I can't snore
I can't belch or yodel anymore
Can't spit or blow my nose or even read Sports Illustrated
Oh no
Why'd I have to go and get myself all mutilated? (yeah, yeah)
I gotta tell ya, life without a head kinda makes me irritated
What a bummer
Can't blink, I can't cough, I can't sneeeze
But my neck is enjoyin' a pleasant breeze now
Haven't been the same since my head and I were separated
No no no
Welcome to my hell. See, it's funny. It's really actually funny. But I hear it almost literally EVERY TIME I get in the car with my kids. It's beginning to feel like a yeast infection in my brain.
I'm still plugging away at the business, though not with much success this week. Lots of emails and phone calls going unreturned. It's frustrating, every time I think I'm on a roll, things come to a screeching halt.
The kids are having ups and downs. The Girl has been moody as HELL lately, and the boy has been quite defiant, too. It's been quite a trial to get through it with a cool head--but I have to note here that I have actually gotten through it with a cool head, which means the Lexapro is WORKING. Hooray for my drug-addled brain!!
So instead of bitching about petty crap non-stop (hooray, Sass, welcome back to the Real World!), I'll just list a bunch of random crap that I have meant to add here over the past couple of months...
Just tonight, The Boy asked me: "Mom, are Johnny Cash and Johnny Bravo related?"
On a recent car trip, we passed a car which had painted in the back window: "MADONNA OR BUST!" The Girl asked me what that meant, and I explained that they must be on their way to a Madonna concert (as a responsible parent from the 80's, my children are both familiar with Her Work). Two very gay gentlemen are probably still wondering what a young girl was shouting as she shook her fist at them as we passed. (It was "I'M SO JEALOUS!!")
Just a couple of weird things that I notice on my weekly trips to meet The Kids' Dad:
--There is a house with several pyramids of varying sizes constructed in their backyard. The largest is about the size of a storage shed (I wouldn't be surprised to learn they keep their lawn mower and barbecue grill in it), and the smallest (visible from the street, anyway) is about a foot high. They appear to be placed randomly, and the Owners have recently decided they all needed a fresh coat of paint. Different colors, of course.
--For some reason, I can't help but laugh every time I pass the home of some poor, poor woman who has to live with her husband's business's sign in the front yard: BECK'S REAR END PARTS.
--There is another house with a large-ish sized statue of an alien 'presenting' a blue 'gazing ball' featured prominently in their front lawn. The alien seems to be offering his ball to the Baptist Church across the street.
--Each week, we pass yet another home of interest: they have a van painted exactly like Scooby Doo's Mystery Machine.
I thought this place was supposed to be boring.
Uh huh ... extra cheese
Uh huh, uh huh ... save a piece for me
Pizza party at your house
I went just to check it out
Nineteen extra larges
What a shame
No one came
Just us eatin' all alone
You said, "Take the pizza home"
"No sense lettin' all this go to waste"
So then I faced
Pizza all day
And every day
This cheese 'round the clock
Is gettin' me blocked
And I sure don't care
For irregularity
Tell me
Why'd you have to go and make me so constipated?
'Cause right now I'd do anything to just get my bowels evacuated
In the bathroom ... I sit and I wait and I strain
And I sweat and I clench and I feel the pain
Oh, should I take laxatives or have my colon irrigated?
No no no
I was feelin' pretty down
'Till my girlfriend came around
We're just so alike in every way
I gotta say
In fact, I just thought I might
Pop the question there that night
I was kissing her so tenderly
But woe is me
Who would have guessed
Her family crest
I'd suddely spy
Tattooed on her thigh
And son-of-a-gun
It's just like the one on me
Tell me
How was I supposed to know we were both related?
Believe me, if I knew she was my cousin we never would have dated
What to do now? Should I go ahead and propose
And get hitched and have kids with eleven toes
And move to Alabama where that kind of thing is tolerated?
No no no no no no no
No no no no no no no
No no no no no
I had so much on my mind
I thought maybe I'd unwind
Try out that new roller coaster ride
And the guide
Said not to stand
But that's a demand
That I couldn't meet
I got on my feet
And stood up instead
And knocked off my head, you see
Tell me
Why'd I have to go and get myself decapitated?
This really is a major inconvenience, oh man, I really hate it
Such a drag, now ... Can't eat, I can't breathe, I can't snore
I can't belch or yodel anymore
Can't spit or blow my nose or even read Sports Illustrated
Oh no
Why'd I have to go and get myself all mutilated? (yeah, yeah)
I gotta tell ya, life without a head kinda makes me irritated
What a bummer
Can't blink, I can't cough, I can't sneeeze
But my neck is enjoyin' a pleasant breeze now
Haven't been the same since my head and I were separated
No no no
Welcome to my hell. See, it's funny. It's really actually funny. But I hear it almost literally EVERY TIME I get in the car with my kids. It's beginning to feel like a yeast infection in my brain.
I'm still plugging away at the business, though not with much success this week. Lots of emails and phone calls going unreturned. It's frustrating, every time I think I'm on a roll, things come to a screeching halt.
The kids are having ups and downs. The Girl has been moody as HELL lately, and the boy has been quite defiant, too. It's been quite a trial to get through it with a cool head--but I have to note here that I have actually gotten through it with a cool head, which means the Lexapro is WORKING. Hooray for my drug-addled brain!!
So instead of bitching about petty crap non-stop (hooray, Sass, welcome back to the Real World!), I'll just list a bunch of random crap that I have meant to add here over the past couple of months...
Just tonight, The Boy asked me: "Mom, are Johnny Cash and Johnny Bravo related?"
On a recent car trip, we passed a car which had painted in the back window: "MADONNA OR BUST!" The Girl asked me what that meant, and I explained that they must be on their way to a Madonna concert (as a responsible parent from the 80's, my children are both familiar with Her Work). Two very gay gentlemen are probably still wondering what a young girl was shouting as she shook her fist at them as we passed. (It was "I'M SO JEALOUS!!")
Just a couple of weird things that I notice on my weekly trips to meet The Kids' Dad:
--There is a house with several pyramids of varying sizes constructed in their backyard. The largest is about the size of a storage shed (I wouldn't be surprised to learn they keep their lawn mower and barbecue grill in it), and the smallest (visible from the street, anyway) is about a foot high. They appear to be placed randomly, and the Owners have recently decided they all needed a fresh coat of paint. Different colors, of course.
--For some reason, I can't help but laugh every time I pass the home of some poor, poor woman who has to live with her husband's business's sign in the front yard: BECK'S REAR END PARTS.
--There is another house with a large-ish sized statue of an alien 'presenting' a blue 'gazing ball' featured prominently in their front lawn. The alien seems to be offering his ball to the Baptist Church across the street.
--Each week, we pass yet another home of interest: they have a van painted exactly like Scooby Doo's Mystery Machine.
I thought this place was supposed to be boring.
Comments:
Post a Comment
