JusWondering… RidiculouZodiac Or SerioZodiac?

For anyone who’s willing to be delighted by lounge songs about the zodiac, coupled with some of the finest dancing this side of the Jabbawockeez, here’s a compilation of Harvey Sid Fisher informing entertaining infotaining us about what it means to be each of the signs.  If you can’t wait for yours, the breakdown goes like this:

0:00 – “I am, I am, I am the Ram.” (Aries)

0:50 – “Talk about the Taurus, talk about the bully bull bull.”

1:28 – “One twin does the making love, the other likes to watch.” (Gemini)

2:24 – “Moonchild, moonchild…” (Cancer)

3:10 – “I need more sex than most that’s just a fact not a boast.” (Leo)

3:56 – “Virgooooo, VirgoOOOoooOOOooo…”

4:42 – “Lib-Liba-Libra, Lib-Liba-Libra…”

5:29 – “I can see right through your soul and out the other end.” (Scorpio)

6:11 – “I’m a Sag’, I’m a Sag’, I’m a Sag’…” (Sag… ittarius)

6:57 – “I was born a Capra, I was born a Capra, I was born a Capricorn.”

7:48 – “Cuz’ I am in love with humanity, it’s just some people that I cannot stand.” (Aquarius)

8:36 – “Puh-Puh-Puh-Pisces,  Puh-Puh-Puh-Pisces…”

Kinda reminds me of James Quall:

Musical Musings… Mario Paint Masterpieces (For Your Ears!)

(SNES not included)

(SNES not included)

Mario Paint, a staple of the Super Nintendo, was a pretty pointless, but very entertaining gimmick game, like pretty much most of Nintendo’s products through the years.  Gotta love ’em nonetheless!

Anywario, there’s an app floating around on the TripleDoubleU that imitates the old composer portion of Mario Paint, and what would the world be coming to if nerds fans out there didn’t create their own masterpieces!  Well, at least covert other people’s songs into Mario Paint versions.  Some highlights:

Some other good ones:

What is Love? by Haddaway

Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

Take On Me by A-Ha

More options here.

JusWondering… Some Things That Kept Me Up Last Night

I had a rough go at esacaping to dreamland last night, mostly in thanks to some of these thoughts that were splashing around in my brain (I’d have been content if they were swimming).

  1. Does Gatorade freeze?  I’ve never had Gatorade around the house consistently to know for sure, but I would assume it would.  If Gatorade is chemically structured to replace “sweat,” then maybe it doesn’t (unless sweat freezes).  If it does freeze, does it taste okay when thawed (soda pop does not)?  And where can I get a stock of the 32oz. bottles so I don’t always have to stop at 7-11?  (And speaking of G…)
  2. Why is the dance group known as Jabbawockeez kinda scary?  The winners of the first season of Randy Jackson’s America’s Best Dance Crew (or RJABDC for short, or DUM for shorter), are seen at the end of this commercial. 
    They’re good dancers, don’t get me wrong, but they are equally creepy.  Here’s video of them dancing.
  3. What kind of belt should I get?  I don’t like belts.  I never have.  And since they possibly say something about you, what do I want my belt to say about me?  The problem is that the new jeans I purchased were a size too large in order to give me pocket room.
  4. What happened to red, original flavored, Plax?  Should I buy it from online from Amazon?  Did it go away because it didn’t sell well… or because it causes cancer?plax
  5. How does this Korean baby know the words to “Hey Jude” better than me?

Happy Find… Mad Xzibs

This may give Fuck Yeah! Ryan Gosling! a run for the money, and kick Heck Yeah! Taylor Swift! to the curb (please don’t touch her… she’s an angel).

It’s called Mad Xzibs, and it goes a little something like this:

SUP DAWG, WE HEARD YOU LIKE(D) ______, SO WE _______ ______ IN THE _______ (SO YOU CAN ______ WHILE YOU _____).

I guess it’s been around for awhile, so much so that there’s a controversy over using “SUP DAWG” and “YO DAWG,” but I just found about it from an old Urlesque article, so here it is.  These are two of a few that cracked me up.  The Urlesque page is the better of the two since its condensed, but the Encyclopedia Dramatica article is not without its humor in explaining more of the history.

A few of my favorites:

Alvin Joiner & Xzibit

xzibit

xzibitannefrank

Musical Musings… Happy Birthday “Voices That Care!”

Remember this?

Well, actually yesterday was the 18th birthday of the song Voices That Care, and it is quite the time capsule.  Made originally to raise money for the Red Cross during Operation Desert Storm, it has now, well, let’s reflect on the highlights:

  • Gotta love the flag opening.  Reminds me of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of Crap.  Unfortunately.
  • Celine Dion was just a baby.  I wonder if her creepy-old-manager/husband-to-be was tapping that yet.  (Also, she has kind of that Amy Grant vibe going.  Much better than the future Vegas chest thumping.)
  • Peter Cetera!  Why isn’t he making music anymore?  Am I the only one that wonders where he went?  (Maybe he’s hanging out with Steve Perry.)
  • See Bobby Brown.  See Bobby Brown sing.  See Bobby Brown not get high and smack a ho.
  • Is that dude in the cowboy hat from Warrant?  Yes.  Yes, he is.
  • Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson’s singing voices mesh perfectly with Luther Vandross.  (Actually, all the sports stars have wonderful pipes.)
  • Who’s singing with Garth BrooksAmy Grant or Celine Dion?  Was hair really that big back then?
  • BONUS: More Warrant!  Nope.  It’s just Nelson.  Why is everyone wearing cowboy hats, yet Garth Brooks did not (a true rarity)?
  • Michael Bolton was pretty good in Office Space, doncha think?
  • Will Smith even got to rap.  That tickles my soul.  Isn’t it weird he got his start “rapping,” but now it seems weird to see him rap?
  • One good thing about the arrival of CGI – no more neon coloring on B&W footage (hopefully).
  • The Chorus.  You gotta love the Chorus.  I can’t even begin to dive into the Chorus.  All I have to say is this: Michelle Pfeiffer AND Jon Lovitz.  No?  Fred Savage AND Meryl Streep?  Not enough?  Gary Busey AND Chevy Chase?  Yes.  That awesome. 
  • Wait was Mike Tyson’s arm around Debbie Gibson?  (She was my first concert – at the Sea World in Orlando.)

In my research, I stumbled on this must-see Where Are They Now video.  Check it out.

InASense, Lost… No To Boobs, But Blood’s Okay?

This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for awhile.  When I recently went to the theater to see the wretched Friday the 13th remake/revision/re-fried beans, there was a father behind me with his 8-10 year old son.  I had a major ass-id flashback when I overheard him telling his son, “Cover your eyes!” whenever nudity was shown.

“Cover your eyes!”  The adage of the forbidden.  The phrase my parents often demanded of me when renting schlocky horror and fantasy films (they were my dad’s favorite VHS tapes to rent) whenever there was any hint of an upcoming boobs, butts, or both.

In fact, at the showing of F13, there were a fair amount of kids.  My favorite was a dumpy looking mother with her dumpy looking tween son that was wearing a Girls Gone Wild t-shirt.

What bothers me is that these parents don’t even stop to consider what these films do to their kids’ brains (if they have any, for that matter – the big dopes or their offspring).

At least the father behind me was sorta censoring his spawn’s input.

As an example of the warping that can occur, let me bring up a few things that warped my mind in the original series:

1) It made me scared of NYC.  I haven’t been sure of the origin of my fear.  This intro makes it look not-so-inviting:

2) It made me scared of loud random noises.  In the middle of the night one time, I kept hearing this scary uggh type noise.  I thought the devil was speaking through my TV or something.  Ended up being a spider in the fire alarm, but whew!  I flipped the fuck out.  Now listen to the crap noise they call “music” that plays through the opening of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final (hah!) Friday:

3) It made me scared of getting naked, et. al.  People die, folks.  People die!  That’s why I shower in my bathing suit.  Just in case.

Musical Musings… Swift-ly Handing In My Man Card

My parents both grew up on Motown.  It’s not odd or unlikely, but it explains why they never got into any of the Woodstock (hippie) fare, or harder rock like the Stones, the Who, or the Doors.

So growing up, it was radio-friendly for me… Lionel Richie, Hall & Oates, Air Supply (my dad loved them), and the G.O.A.T. – Billy Joel.  I remember the disdain the ‘rents had for Huey Lewis and the News when the (awesome!) group released, “I Want a New Drug.”  They never censored me from it, but they let me know they “weren’t crazy about it.”

The reason I say all this: I’m a sap for sappy music.  I get lost in your eyes in pop drivel, and I can’t help it.  There’s a radio station here that used to play soft rock at night (complete with love song dedications and a nightly wish… you must click here to hear!) and I remember being a teen, driving home from my first job at a toy store, listening to Alan Almond’s Pillow Talk while it was snowing the biggest flakes you’ve ever seen.  (I may be the biggest flake ever seen, but I digress…)

This quote from John Cusack’s (well, technically Nick Hornby’s) High Fidelity sums up my worldview it a nutshell, possible emphasis on nuts or hell:

What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?

So why oh why am I bringing this up now?  Namely, due to this young lass:

Heck Yeah! Taylor Swift!

Heck Yeah! Taylor Swift!

 She has a new little ditty making the rounds on the airwaves, and as I listened to it I realized something.  Well, take a listen if you’re unfamiliar with her work:

What I’m slowly coming to terms with is, ugh… it’s a slow process.  This 19 year old country gal that writes her own songs DREAMS THE SAME DREAMS I DO*.  And that sucks, I guess.

So in other words… GRRRRR ULTIMATE FIGHTING!

*well maybe not the EXACT same dreams

Drunken Recollection… Tron And Lil’ Wayne = Cheese And Whine

I’m no fashionista.  (I even felt uncomfortable writing that word.)  I don’t dress in the latest fashions (if Target or Kohl’s ever become haute couture, I’ll be set).  I don’t even wear a suit to formal affairs (I have my standard white dress shirt, random tie, black pants, and until someone called me out on wearing a certain vest to their wedding – a certain vest).

So please do not judge me as I judge another.  My sisters always said it’s 10% what you wear and 90% your attitude (I think they borrowed liberally from another saying), but there was this guy at the bar that made some choices, and then some additional choices on top of those, and… well, let me explain.

First off, he was in mid- to late-twenties, and he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt bearing what I call “a Tron pattern.”

(Not So) Artistic Representation

(Not So) Artistic Representation

Which on its own, I guess, would be fine and dandy (I shall never write that phrase again).  But he could have worn something akin to this, instead:

Boba Swett...shirt

Boba Swett...shirt

And he would have pulled off the look a bit better.  But he also could have actually gone to this extreme like this guy:

Does he Master Controller to Tron?

Does he Master Controller to Tron?

Yet I’m not done.  The sweatshirt was a few sizes too small, as it tapered and adhered to his arms.  A bad choice on its own, but forgivable if he opted NOT TO WEAR THE HOOD.  It was snug on his noggin, and seemed to pull up the shirt underneath as well.

So what? you might be thinking.  He can just put down the hood.  My response: then why doesn’t he pull up the back of his pants!  He had them purposely draped below his gray boxer briefed bum, as his leather belt held them firmly there.  My friend, Jess, thought he might not know, but I knew he knew.  It was another in a long line of bad choices.

The coup de grace for me was when my friend Devin was doing karaoke of Lil’ Wayne’s “A Milli” (which is a dumb song, btw, with some of the worst lyrics… check them out after the jump).  This too-small-Tron-hoodie-wearing, non-boxer-pants-sagging doofus jumped up to sing with him, and he couldn’t keep up!  He ruined it for Devin.  Oh well.  Like I said, who am I to judge… in my 90’s X-Men tee and skaterboi jeans with the cuffs rolled up.

(SIDE RANT: What’s the appeal of Lil’ Wayneanyway?  Is he big merely for the fact he may have been the first to integrate electronica with rap?  Why couldn’t he be a nice, clean cut guy like Chris Brown, and get cozy with a sweetheart like Rihanna?)

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Happy Find… Happy President’s Day!

First, some little known facts about our first president:

Thirty-fifth, some little known facts about our thirty-fifth president:

(via SuperDeluxe)

JusWondering… Flooded Bathrooms, Head Sizes, Spasms, And Dirty Words?

Just some things I’ve been thinking about the last 24 hours:

  • At the bar last night, someone left a faucet running.  It filled the sink and started flooding the floor.  I turned it off and alerted the waitstaff.  The waitress’ response, “Not again.”  This made me wonder: Are we so used to automatic water faucets that we don’t remember how to use the old ones?
Now... you grab what and pump how again?

Now... you grab what and pump how again?

  • I get an occasional twitch in my left thigh where my cell phone usually hangs around.  Should I change the pocket I carry my cell phone in?
  • I used to be pretty good at math, and I’ve always loved board games.  People used to tell me I should have went into statistics, but I thought that would have been boring.  Maybe I should have invented some new kind of puzzle game.
  • Brit pop star Lily Allen has a new CD out.  Kevin Smith’s latest movie just came out on DVD.  While I was at Target, I looked at the back of Lily’s CD and saw that she had a song called “Fuck You,” clear as day on the back.  Yet, Zack and Miri couldn’t have Make a Porno on it.  So a “Fuck You” on your back is better than a “Porno” on your front?
    "What's a p****, mom?" "A p**** is a video of people fucking, honey."

    "What's a p****, mom?" "A p**** is a video of people fucking, honey."

  • This song I heard on the radio last night as I was driving home reminded me of discovering new music in my college years:
  • Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist would have been better if Nick and Norah’s heads were in proportion to each other.  I’m not sure if Michael Cera’s head is too small or Kat Dennings’ chest head is too big.  (I’m thinking the prior.)
    Made me not-so-afraid of NYC... I watch too many 70's movies.

    Made me not-so-afraid of NYC... I've seen too many 70's movies.