I'm having major issues.
I'm having issues with the fact that someone, somewhere, right now is penning another song with shitty lyrics that will make it into the public sphere and rape my ears.
I can't help but notice the ridiculously repetitive themes that are shitting all over songs these days.
Initiate list....
"Falling"
No wonder I had to pay four hundred and eighteen fucking dollars on a Medicare levy surcharge in my tax return this year. Dickhead musicians everywhere are breaking collarbones and skinning their knees over pretty girls. Seriously, when is the last time you actually fell over? Mind-altering substances aside, we all gained the ability to remain vertical after the age of about one. Assuming you didn’t give up your V plates before the tender of age of 15, we can assume most of you have had 14 years of practicing the age-old art of standing independent of anyone\thing when you are around the opposite sex. So why the fuck do you lose all that as soon as your latest crush cheats on you\dumps you\walks by? STAND THE HELL UP and tell her she’s the one\a major mole\ your masturbation material.
"Fly away, spread your wings, etc."
Dear Nelly Furtado,
You are not a bird, whilst your physical appearance may have dumber beings fooled, I am not. You are human, you do not have wings and you cannot fly independently of your private jet where you and Timbaland get all promiscuous and eat men. So if you could stop this nonsense about flying I would appreciate it, unfortunately is too late to undo the damage so I hold you personally responsible for the following people and their confusion with their own abilities to fly away ...Lenny Kravitz, Seal, Frank Sinatra, RHCP, R. Kelly, Foo Fighters. (Yes I understand some are chronologically impossible, but I just really don't like Miss Furtado)
“Breathe, Take my breath away, etc.”
I’d be interested in the statistics that show any correlation between artists that make it to commercial radio and those that have asthma, it would probably be up in the 0.87 region, because apparently every one with a top ten single is having severe respiratory problems.
Taylor Swift, Mario and Faith Hill are all struggling to breath without you, yes you! And Aerosmith like to watch you while you sleep and breathe, that’s not creepy at all. Even LiLo may need to invest in some Ventolin after her shithouse song. Again, just as the case was with standing upright, we all learnt to inhale and exhale from day one, why the problem now? Breathing is not a pretty thing, morning breath, bad breath, garlic breath, sausage roll breath, Weet-Bix breath and coffee breath are all realities, no one has that icy, minty breath like on those ‘no smint, no kiss’ ads where your breath freezes shit. IT JUST DOESN’T HAPPEN! So if songs could just avoid that particular bodily function from now on I’d appreciate that.
“Bounce”
To quote obviously one of the most influential musical geniuses in recent history, nay, all history – “You gotta get up to get down.”
Yes, Aaron Carter was possibly the first to provide this ground-breaking advice in his 2001 smash hit ‘Bounce’. Who knew throughout the years many, many artists would look to him for inspiration as they penned their own songs dealing with the ever complicated art of moving up and down. Many tried, many failed but some succeeded in effectively convincing audiences worldwide to perform the increasingly popular dance move.
• Chingy decided to focus on the posterior of his fans and encourage his ‘hos’ to ‘bounce dat ass’
• Sarah Connor encouraged you to leave her premises via the act of ‘bouncing out that door’ Ms Connor apparently just ain’t gone see you no more.
• System of a Down, ever the musical terrorists, liked to mix things up and encouraged you to ‘bounce’ in a different order, turning their backs to the traditional ‘bouncing up and down’ they said no to conformity and decided to instead ‘bounce down and up’, no doubt throwing seasoned bouncers into panicked mayhem with the swapping of familiar actions.
• T-Pain clearly likes his women to be vertically challenged when they bounce as he instructs his “shawtys” to keep “bouncing up and down dat pole” while he plays the ever gentleman and gets them “a drank from da bar”. What a nice guy!
• Ever the eloquent lyrical gangster, Timbaland has taken it one step further and not only demanded his girl to come here and bounce (over 17 times in one song) he has also specified just how he likes it done... ‘like your ass has the hiccups’
“100% complete and utter clichés....”
I mean come on Nickelback!! I couldn’t avoid your latest song “If Today Was Your Last Day” and it read\sang, word for word, exactly like those books that you find at the counter of Dymocks. You know those ones that are about the eighth of the size of a novel and have a hard cover and have a stupid title like ‘Mothers and Daughters Forever” and you’re meant to give it to your mum on Mothers day. They are normally the ones you read when you’re buying a normal book and you’re standing at the counter waiting to pay but the retard serving you can’t find the barcode so you politely flick through it in order to avoid eye contact while they sweat over the decision to call the manager or not. They always involve some hideous floral pattern and aren’t void of a cherub looking angel decorating the cover and are always ‘compiled’ by someone named Margeret or Ruth.
Well anyway, Nickelback suck and check out their latest ‘hit’
My best friend gave me the best advice
He said each day's a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less travelled by
That first step you take is the longest stride
If today was your last day
and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past
Donate every dime you have?
If today was your last day
Against the grain should be a way of life
What's worth the prize is always worth the fight
Every second counts 'cause there's no second try
So live like you'll never live it twice
Don't take the free ride in your own life
If today was your last day
and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past
Donate every dime you have?
Would you call old friends you never see?
Reminisce of memories
Would you forgive your enemies?
Would you find that one you're dreamin' of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you finally fall in love
If today was your last day
If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
So do whatever it takes
'Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life
Let nothin' stand in your way
Cause the hands of time are never on your side
Just to highlight the horrible quotes derived straight from some shit book like “Life is a Verb” or something, I’ve bolded the obvious plagiarism. Note that out of the 271 words, only 72 words were NOT included, and I was being generous allowing for the chorus to be repeated and even deleting the extra verse to save you the horror.
I’m not saying I don’t like songs, I actually enjoy some of them, well one of them (I mean the chorus is kind of catchy, Aaron Carter really knows how to get da party started) but can’t they take their millions of dollars and pay someone with talent to use words that haven’t already been used and abused by others?
Otherwise just keep your songs instrumental and stick to the ‘yeah’s’ and ‘baby’s’. Please.
Being polite is lame
''Dearest God, if you make this person go away I'll start to believe in you."
I find myself repeating this prayer over and over again too often.
I inherited a lovely trait from my mum that means no matter where I go, I attract anyone in the vicinity who is crazy or lonely or needs to talk about something. Anyone with an issue/ mental disorder/ imaginary friend feels that I am somehow their kindred spirit and would like to have a chat.
This is incorrect.
If you've read my other blogs you'll know about the nutjobs at The Rosemount, but I'm not talking about them. I get that when I'm at work I am a provider of alcohol and this attracts all types and that's my own fault for choosing that job. I'm talking about when I'm off work in my everyday life, minding my own business and some freak decides to bail me up and discuss his latest case of gangrene on his big toe, (this really did happen once).
The other day I was waiting for my takeaway dinner in Mount Lawley so I wandered over to Planet Books to kill some time. There I was quietly flicking through some novel when a guy walks up besides me, holds a book right up to the side of my face and presses the button on it that emits a farting sound. Now I resisted the urge to write my whole rant about the author who wrote a book about farts, so I'll stick to this weird guy. Apparently old mate had discovered this book, complete with sound, and needed to share it with someone immediately, and with my curse, I was in the vicinity.
And this is what pisses me off... Why did I feel the need to be polite? This guy committed a heap of social faux pas in the first 4 seconds of interaction and he hadn't even opened his mouth yet, including...
I attempted the same nose-air tactic , but this time I added in the half-turning-my-back-on-him manoeuvre hoping to discourage him from anything further. Again I failed and apparently urged him to continue. This time he kind of half slapped me on the back like we were old chums and asked if I had a lotto ticket for the $90 million. What?
For about five minutes I kept up this polite bullshit and suffered through stifled conversation, the whole time trying to pretend I was reading a book and slowly shuffle away. Throughout this ordeal he continued to follow me around the store, press the fart button and laugh away each time, clearly never tiring of the sound effects. He talked so fast about crap that little white flecks started building up in the corner of his mouth and then when he laughed they would be projected all over the shelf in front of him, thank god I wasn't facing him. Eventually I didn't want to discuss his new backpack anymore or the Nova 937 stickers he found and decided enough is enough. I told him I had to go get my dinner and to have a good night. What I really wanted to do though, was scream "IF MY SPRING ROLLS ARE SOGGY BECAUSE I GOT STUCK TALKING TO YOU, MAY YOU GO BLIND AND DEAF AND NEVER ENJOY A NOVELTY CHILDRENS BOOK EVER AGAIN!" and then genuinely fart in his face and see how funny he thought it was then.
What pissed me off is that everyone else around me fell victim to the whole 'feel sorry for the weirdo because he's lonely and be polite' thing too, I desperately wished someone would step in to my rescue and say 'listen mate, she doesn't care about your friend Timbo and his new shoes, so fuck off.' But no one did, they just gave me that polite crap straight back, they all did that annoying half smile, half shrug with a tilted head that said 'awww, sucks to be you, but there's nothing I can do sorry?' - MY ARSE THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO!! YELL FIRE! ASK ME THE TIME! TELL ME MY FLY IS UNDONE - ANYTHING!! JUST GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF THIS!
So as I walked\ran to my dinner I vowed never to be polite again..
I swore to myself I would be a rude bitch from then on.
And then on my way home in the car, some guy let me in at the traffic lights and I gave him a courtesy wave. Dammit!
I find myself repeating this prayer over and over again too often.
I inherited a lovely trait from my mum that means no matter where I go, I attract anyone in the vicinity who is crazy or lonely or needs to talk about something. Anyone with an issue/ mental disorder/ imaginary friend feels that I am somehow their kindred spirit and would like to have a chat.
This is incorrect.
If you've read my other blogs you'll know about the nutjobs at The Rosemount, but I'm not talking about them. I get that when I'm at work I am a provider of alcohol and this attracts all types and that's my own fault for choosing that job. I'm talking about when I'm off work in my everyday life, minding my own business and some freak decides to bail me up and discuss his latest case of gangrene on his big toe, (this really did happen once).
The other day I was waiting for my takeaway dinner in Mount Lawley so I wandered over to Planet Books to kill some time. There I was quietly flicking through some novel when a guy walks up besides me, holds a book right up to the side of my face and presses the button on it that emits a farting sound. Now I resisted the urge to write my whole rant about the author who wrote a book about farts, so I'll stick to this weird guy. Apparently old mate had discovered this book, complete with sound, and needed to share it with someone immediately, and with my curse, I was in the vicinity.
And this is what pisses me off... Why did I feel the need to be polite? This guy committed a heap of social faux pas in the first 4 seconds of interaction and he hadn't even opened his mouth yet, including...
- Invading personal space
- Interrupting my 'silent reading' time
- Discussing bodily functions
- Obviously not showering for 6+ days.
I attempted the same nose-air tactic , but this time I added in the half-turning-my-back-on-him manoeuvre hoping to discourage him from anything further. Again I failed and apparently urged him to continue. This time he kind of half slapped me on the back like we were old chums and asked if I had a lotto ticket for the $90 million. What?
For about five minutes I kept up this polite bullshit and suffered through stifled conversation, the whole time trying to pretend I was reading a book and slowly shuffle away. Throughout this ordeal he continued to follow me around the store, press the fart button and laugh away each time, clearly never tiring of the sound effects. He talked so fast about crap that little white flecks started building up in the corner of his mouth and then when he laughed they would be projected all over the shelf in front of him, thank god I wasn't facing him. Eventually I didn't want to discuss his new backpack anymore or the Nova 937 stickers he found and decided enough is enough. I told him I had to go get my dinner and to have a good night. What I really wanted to do though, was scream "IF MY SPRING ROLLS ARE SOGGY BECAUSE I GOT STUCK TALKING TO YOU, MAY YOU GO BLIND AND DEAF AND NEVER ENJOY A NOVELTY CHILDRENS BOOK EVER AGAIN!" and then genuinely fart in his face and see how funny he thought it was then.
What pissed me off is that everyone else around me fell victim to the whole 'feel sorry for the weirdo because he's lonely and be polite' thing too, I desperately wished someone would step in to my rescue and say 'listen mate, she doesn't care about your friend Timbo and his new shoes, so fuck off.' But no one did, they just gave me that polite crap straight back, they all did that annoying half smile, half shrug with a tilted head that said 'awww, sucks to be you, but there's nothing I can do sorry?' - MY ARSE THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO!! YELL FIRE! ASK ME THE TIME! TELL ME MY FLY IS UNDONE - ANYTHING!! JUST GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF THIS!
So as I walked\ran to my dinner I vowed never to be polite again..
- I will tell my hairdresser, Natishaniqua, or some other made up name for a white kid, that she did a shit job and that she should take her blonde streaks and fake nails back to TAFE.
- I will be that annoying bitch that says 'ah no, I was first thankyou very much', at the Coles deli counter when someone steps in and gets a hot chook before I do, complete with a fake smile.
- I will tell a customer THAT I DON'T GIVE A FUCK when they tell me they are lactose intolerant\gluten free\allergic to salt BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN'T BE EATING AT A PUB THEN SHOULD YOU!!!
- I will punch the idiots in the computer lab at uni in the back of the head when I need a computer for study and they are looking at youtube videos of monkeys rooting goats.
- I will get road rage.
- I will throw the pint of water in the face of someone who has asked for it when they add 'it's for the band' - Oh, right, I'll get out the crystal then shall I?
I swore to myself I would be a rude bitch from then on.
And then on my way home in the car, some guy let me in at the traffic lights and I gave him a courtesy wave. Dammit!
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