Music Memes

Tell me a song that reminds you of the following tastes (one song for each taste):

Sweet
Frente’s cover of “Let The Sunshine In” from The Flintstones. It must be the lead singer’s exaggerated little-girl lisp.

Sour
“Santa Monica” by Everclear.

Salty
“I’m Alright” by Jo Dee Messina. Lately for me ‘salty’ has come to mean an exciting, unusual good time and I cannot help but smile and sing along when I hear this one.

Bitter
“The Blower’s Daughter” by Damien Rice. Soulful and pathetically sad, it tells a story of unrequited love… I think we’ve all been in that place.

Bland
“Don’t Cha” by some corporate band. When I’m in the mood for slutty, anonymous porn from a generic source I can’t help but think of these women. And Ann Coulter.

Spicy
“Oops! Oh My” by Tweet. The unadulterated version of this song is simplistic, provocative and very sexy.

Many Me's

CHRIS TAYLOR

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 1,031 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

...but theres only ONE thats fast like a wet ninja=)

Newest T-Shirt Design I Wish I Had

Are We Ready To Start The Bloodless Revolution?

I swear all I want to do is protect myself from Alzheimer’s.

Truly.

Well, good news for all of you who smoke pot... apparently, along with being able to help relieve the debilitating side-effects of chemo therapy, HIV drug cocktails and glaucoma, THC is now thought to help fight off Alzheimer’s disease. Add to that the fact that it’s non-addictive (certainly no more addictive than nicotine), use of which is generally non-violent and that something like 30% of Americans have smoked or regularly DO smoke M-J. BTW, that percentage seems to get quite a bit higher when the people sampled are in the 20-40 year old range. It positively skyrockets when the question is changed to the less self-incriminating, “Would you smoke marijuana if it were perfectly legal to do so?”

"The overall physical effect of THC is far safer than what happens to my liver every weekend."

Would I? You bet. To me, this isn’t one of those moral dilemmas where if you commit a crime, it will adversely effect someone else like mugging someone to feed your family. No, this is the very definition of a victimless crime, or, at least, it would be if there were not already criminal enterprises built up around circumventing the law. Nope, smoking M-J is a crime because someone has declared it so. There are lots of asshat reasons for it but what it all really comes down to is specific injury or the reasonable danger thereof and when taken in that light, the arguments simply don’t hold water. Physicians and studies the world over have declared alcohol and tobacco more dangerous by a wide margin. The overall physical effect of THC is far safer than what happens to my liver every weekend. In fact, from my layman’s point of view, the biggest health hazard associated with smoking pot is getting arrested and having to share a bunk with a 480-pound guy named ‘Shirley the health inspector’.

Anyways, that’s why I don’t smoke pot. But now I’m really wishing that I could without the chance of arrest or failing a physical. Anyone with even a semi-close relationship with an elderly person is gonna be wishing the same thing before long. Alzheimer’s is simply a fact of life with these people, whether the person is afflicted or not. It only takes one instance of obvious memory loss to get the wheels turning in that direction… and once they start, they DO NOT stop.

Oh, and as far as the ‘getting high’ aspect of the whole thing? Pffft, that’s why I have, like, four bottles of flavored vodka running around this place.

Breathing Out So You Can Breath Me In

Occasionally it’s necessary to let out bits of crazy in order to keep from blowing up, much like knocking the press off the boiler (“She creeps…”) keeps the scary old hotel from blowing sky-high.

...today I thought I found one of my old guitar picks but it turned out to be just an old, used band-aid that had been folded up and left to harden...

...after periodically lamenting the fact that I am the primary IT nerd in my ‘lil group of friends, my friends eventually stopped asking for my help… then, last night, my friend asked if I would help him with a minor IT problem this morning to which I readily agreed, being secretly happy to be able to help in my special way. I arrived at his place this morning and found that I had missed him in the shuffle and he was already over at my place… and he had already taken care of his problem himself…

…a while back I offered to tune my friend’s guitar for him using an electronic tuner my good chum Drew had given me. While in the midst of tuning, not one but two strings broke including the high E. Thankfully, it missed blinding me when it streaked upward and outward at the speed of light however it did manage to give me a minor cut on my right hand, drawing a bit of blood. I am now, irrationally, afraid of my friend’s guitar because whenever I look at it now, I get the distinct feeling that having tasted my blood once, it will not be satisfied until it’s able to taste it again…

…having recently lost a bit of weight (and subsequent inches from my waist) I was surprised and dismayed this morning when I saw that it was raining outside and I found I no longer had any jeans that fit…

…during the entire time I was smoking (during my most recent stint as an addict, that is) I was never once sick with a cough or a throat ailment. Now, after having been quit of cigarettes for just over three weeks, I am starting to develop a froggy throat… bleh…

…I am secretly terrified that Bob Woodward may be full of shit…

…whenever I’m in a parking lot and happen to drop my keys on the ground, I’ll always look around before picking them up… this is not a self-preservation habit nor is it one born of vanity, i.e. making sure no one is looking at my bottom in case my pants split open, but rather one of irrational paranoia… you see, whenever this exact situation occurs and I bend over to pick up my keys, I’m absolutely certain a flaming arrow flies through the air directly through the space where my head would be, if I were still standing erect…

…whenever I see a banana peel lying discarded on the ground, I always have to fight back a desire to intentionally slip on it, just to see if a silly noise or a laugh-track will begin playing out of nowhere…

I think that’s enough for a while.

/smile

Two Dollars?

Which John Cusack Are You?

...eh, it's better than I expected... I thought it was gonna tell me I was Jeremy Piven=)

The Things We Choose To Care About

This morning I had decided to get up on here and give substance to my thoughts on the subject of respect, or, “respek” as my good chum Ali G would put it. (silly Ali G, everyone knows that ‘respek’ is something you do when you ding lvl 40, in order to not get pwned in RvR, lol) I was going to try to segue from there into a self-important rant about how sometimes it is painfully clear how little respect we have for some of the people in our lives and how I, as a gentleman, am literally above all that and how when I do f-up its only because I’m human and therefore its okay. Blah blah blah. (just as an aside here, when I come across as an arrogant ass, please just lemme know… don’t get me wrong: I’ll prolly still rationalize my behavior but it may give us both something to think about)

I would then promenade to the political left and into a faux-intellectual screed about injustice and an art teacher in Texas who was fired because she, my hand to God, exposed her students to art. Absurd, you say? Pah, click the link, you know you want to.

After that I would then doe-see-doe back to the centrist view and poke a little fun at a Florida politico who, in his own turn, had expressed a desire to do a lil’ poking of his own with an under-aged volunteer.

But these things suck and talking about them makes me weary.

Worry not, my hypothetical chum, as you have stayed with me this far into my ramble, you are to be rewarded=) In my searching for song covers I have found some beauties. Its wonderful and refreshing how a piece of music can lift you outta your narcissistic self-indulgence while simultaneously lifting your spirits. Sometimes it’s like a slap in the face, but a gentle one and with a friend’s hand.

I ran across this piece last week and everyday since it has been growing on me more and more. (no melanoma jokes, please.) It’s a cover of Steve Winwood’s “Back in the Highlife Again” by Warren Zevon. Now, my only exposure to this person’s original music was “The Werewolves of London” but to be honest I never bothered to find out who sang it. Additionally, I never really cared for Steve Winwood’s music with this song almost being an exception . You see, I always liked it, but at the same time, I didn’t, if you can dig it. To my ear, it was a great message but Winwood’s delivery was all wrong; too pop-ish, too commercialized. I remember wondering then, “When was this guy ever IN the highlife before so he could come BACK again?" I couldn’t put my finger on it back then but in retrospect I’d say the sentiment just didn’t feel genuine.

"...the sentiment just didn’t feel genuine..."

Now, flash forward with me to the now and my discovery of this 2000 cover. Simple, austere and heartfelt, this is precisely how this song should have been performed in the first place. After hearing this song I went looking for more of his music and found that he had died shortly after releasing it. Obviously, I only add this for effect, as it would seem to reinforce the suggestion of genuine sentiment.

In any case, give it a shot… you never know, it may be enough to brighten your day.

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