I should know better than to complain. Karma has a way of eking out justice. To honor my complaint of Toby Keith’s “Red Solo Cup,” the song has been stuck in my head all day. I barely know two lines, but those two lines have been playing over and over. And over. And over. And over. And over. And over. You get the idea. [sigh]
Tag Archives: funny
It’s obvious Toby Keith has fallen victim to the YesMen (and yes, YesWomen) around him, with his ego soaring ever higher in the atmosphere, resulting in the most annoying song in recent memory. I’m guessing the conversation that led to the irrepressible “Red Solo Cup” song went something like this:
YesMan: Toby, you’re the most awesome musical performer on the planet.
TK: (No verbal response, just a semi-snarl-partial-laugh. Think of something along the lines of Elvis meets Tim “the Tool Man” Taylor.)
YesMan: Seriously man! You could sing a song about anything and your fans would send it to the top of the charts.
TK: Prolly right about that. (The use of “prolly” irks me, so it’s fitting to use it here. I’m LOLing.)
YesMan: Sure I’m right! We could write something simple right here, right now and I guarantee it’ll go platinum.
TK: Maybe. (TK’s strong suit is singing, not conversing.)
YesMan: Take that cup you’re holding — we can turn it into a hit!
TK: This beer’s for my horse.
YesMan: No, I don’t need it — nevermind. Red Solo Cup, I fill you up, let’s have a party . . .
YesMan: It’ll be the drinking song of the decade!
TK: Gotta take a leak.
YesMan: I’ll keep workin’ on this song, man!
And so it goes. The birth of a song that would echo in the ears of beer drinkers everywhere, from frat parties to farm parties, from the country to the cities. Toby Keith, good grief.
(. . . Am I the only one who doesn’t like this song?? . . . )
I went on a mid-day diversion to Marshall’s. I love seeing what new clothes they have in and then wandering the housewares aisles. Wandering those aisles of cookware and dishes, gadgets and linens, I noticed a gent on one aisle checking out the cookware. Interesting, I thought, since I rarely see men in that area. In fact, I don’t recall ever seeing a man in housewares. Next aisle over, same thing. A guy checking out dishes. My goodness, I thought to myself, when did men start frequenting the housewares section? I mean, I’ve seen them in the men’s clothing side, but as I said before, not in housewares. My first thought was Good for them! You know, outfitting their place and all. But then the reality of what the increased traffice means for me settled in: the competition for good deals has increased!! Game on, boys.
I must have fear of commitment. I keep saying I’ll pay more attention to my blog, show it how much it means to me, spend time with it. Not obsessive amounts of time, just more time. And I do for a little while, a few days. And then I go days without checking in, much less posting. It’s not that I don’t love you little blog, I really do. It’s not you, really, it’s me. I have issues. I’m probably not good for you. I want to be there for you, I just . . . I don’t know what happens. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who will be there when she says she will be there. Someone you can count on. It’s not that I don’t think about you, I do. I care about you, it’s not that. I dunno. If you still want to hang out, that would be great. I’ll try to do better. I know I’ve said it before, I know, I know. And I’ve said this time I mean it, but this time I really, really do. Let’s stop talking. Hold me.
I’ve figured out why I’m not getting as much sleep as I should. My “eureka!” moment came the other morning when I woke to see a man standing near my bedside. We were practically face to face and he was staring with a fixed expression, his hand reaching out to me. Of course I was surpised, and you may be wondering if I screamed or called for help or how I managed to get this man out of my bedroom or house. He’s still there actually, but don’t be alarmed . . .
Apparently my son thought my Eiffel Tower lamp needed a tourist.
My kiddo and his little jokes. Love his sense of humor. I recently bought a cast iron gnome for our flowerbeds, but I’ve yet to put him outside so he’s standing in our living room. The other day I noticed his ears look a bit different than when I brought him home.
Not sure how the kiddo came up with that one, putting erasers on the gnome’s ears, but now our gome looks a little more elfish with those ear extensions. What will my little practical joker come up with next?