Best News Of The Day!

This week hasn't been all puppy dogs and unicorns - but reading one headline and it turned my frown upside down!!!!

EXPOSE is reuniting.

Thank you, God!!!!

Favorite Pic of the Afternoon

Confusing Song Lyrics of the Day

Today's song that has confusing lyrics is:

"We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off" - Jermaine Stewart.

Check out the mixed messages Jermaine is giving to his suitors...


First verse:
Let's get to know each other better, slow & easily.
Take my hand, let's hit the floor.
Shake our bodies to the music.
Maybe then you'll score.

Chorus:
So come on baby, won't you show some class
Why you want to move so fast.
We don't have to take our clothes off
To have a good time
Oh no
We could dance & party all night
And drink some cherry Wine

Ok, so here is where I think Jermaine might be giving the wrong idea to the apple of his eye:

The night is young and so are we, lets get to know each other slow and easily.... Ok, I get it. You don't want to just get right into it - you want to ease in to it. Cool, I feel ya, Jermaine. You don't want people to think you are just a piece of meat. You aren't just a hot bod and a killer voice. You are a man, with feelings and profound thoughts. Gotcha!


Then we get to the tricky part:

We don't have to take our clothes off to have a good time
And he is right! I've had the most fun of my life with my clothes on-Hall & Oates at the Troubadour!!!


Buuuut, then he says:

We can dance and party all night and drink some cherry wine...
Now, if you are boozing it up drinking cherry wine and partying all night, don't you think this dude you are dancing with is going to TOTALLY be under the impression that your tender vittles are his as soon as the dance floor clears?

Speaking as someone who had to attend like 1,000 seminars on "No Means No" in my sorority days, I can pretty much bet that poor Jermaine is about a glass of cherry wine and a roofie away from getting his shit roughed up by the dance-floor devil he is leading on.

Poor Jermaine - he wants to have some stimulate his brain and instead he is going to get totally pounded. If he wanted that then he needs to go and play gin rummy at the senior center. Going to a dance club and drinking cherry wine (what the hell is that anyway) is a one way ticket to boningville.


Jermaine Stewart was also the back-up singer on my favorite Culture Club song, "Church of the Poison Mind"! And I just learned that unfortunately he passed away from AIDS a while back......too much cherry wine perhaps? God, that was in poor taste even for me. And I am by no means making light of a very serious disease....but still....think about it...

To lighten the mood, listen to this classic, "sometimes no means yes" song.

EARTHQUAKE!

Only thing that could have made it better would have been if Charlton Heston and Richard Roundtree would have been here with me during it...

Robots....The Harbingers of Death

Robots are scary. True story.

I don't understand why people think it is so weird that I am scared to death of robots. I mean, androids are a bit scarier to me, but robots in general, in my opinion (which is obviously correct) are inherently evil. There's no doubt about it - robots want to kill/mame humans. It's a cold hard fact of life. And how can people think any differently of these mechanical hit men? I mean, Hello?!! Haven't you all seen Blade Runner? Yeah....evil android replicants. Not fun! What about a little movie called 2001: A Space Odyssey? HAL? Not exactly a robot - but it shows exactly what an evil computer can do. And a robot is basically an evil computer that can move. Hell even the transformers could go bad.

My fear of robots came early on in life. First off, I had a robot that you could wind up and walk. And it had a tendency to walk across the room un-wound and it scared the shit out of me. I'm about 98% sure it was possessed. Then I watched some Dr. Who - specifically the episode entitled "Robots of Death". Pretty much says it all, doesn't it? Well those were more on the android slant and they had creepy gold heads. And they went bad and started killing people. It was very scary and thank goodness Dr Who and his scarf were there to figure it all out. Also, Lost In Space - that was supposed to be a kind robot ... but I am not convinced. I don't trust a robot, especially one that flails his creepy robot arms around screaming "danger! danger!". To me that scared me more than whatever creatures were out to get them. There was also a movie - I think I saw it on TBS or something about a shopping mall that used a robot to patrol it after hours and some kids snuck in and the robot went ape shit on them and was shooting at them and all sorts of not fun things ensued. Even the most docile robots go bad - even if only temporarily. Rosie the robot malfunctioned on The Jetsons.

All of those movies/tv shows pretty much conclude one thing and one thing only. Robots are not to be trusted. I hate them all.... with one exception.

And that exception is: Twiki!!!!

Twikie was one helluva robot!!! And that is a lot for me to say. He had wit, charm and some serious pizazz. I'm not saying he wouldn't be immune to turning evil - but he was little. Like a midget robot. And seeing how small he is - I think I could take him. He didn't have any weapons built into his frame so that is a plus - and I know his weakness. Disco music!!!

In conclusion. Robots are evil save for Twiki.

How to Give Yourself A Cankle

I am scared of nuclear war, Armageddon, parasites, getting possessed by the devil and a slew of other things. But nothing scares me as much as developing cankles. Call me shallow - but it scares the shit out of me. My great-grandmother, God bless her, had legs that looked like sausages. Sure she was a geriatric but having legs that look like Jimmy Dean little smokies put the fear of God in me.

So you can imagine my delight upon discovering that I have in fact developed a cankle. And I have no one to blame but myself.

You see, I decided that it might be fun to join a kickball team. And after going to said teams practice and bunting the shit out of a ball for like 20 minutes straight w/o any sort of sock protection, I developed one helluva bruise on my right foot. This bruise was one of those deep tissue ones and decided to swell up. And due to the swelling I now have a cankle. I'm pretty much teetering on the verge and if this cankle doesn't go away on it's own, I might just have my leg amputated. Thats the only responsible thing to do....

View the horror that is my cankle....

Last Night a VJ Saved My Life: Or How BET let me Cut Footloose!

I hail from a small town in the bible belt - and having been raised in said town, I was subjected to the rules that came down from the local evangelicals and were thrust upon the town. For example, our town is dry, does not allow any sort of porn stores within city limits and most establishments are closed on Sundays.

Most of those things didn't phase me all that much. You could drive to Oklahoma for booze, I was never much into porn (I like to make my own) and most Sundays I spent sleeping off the hangover I got the night before off Oklahoma beer.

What did affect me was when the town took off MTV. Apparently the church decided that MTV was corrupting the youth of the town. Leading us to want to do things like...(gasp) Dance. Yes, my town was very footloose. So the cable service took off MTV. I'm pretty sure it went off in 89' and it didn't get back on until 98' (just in time for me to graduate and move out of town). I missed Bevis and Butthead. I missed "The Real Worlds" before they got whack. I missed all the awesomeness that was MTV in the 90's.

What they did not take off was the country music video station or BET. Thank the good Lord for BET. The African American residents of our town didn't take to kindly to the city trying to take away Black Entertainment Television, and rightly so, and so, BET was saved. So instead of watching Ace of Bass or Pearl Jam videos (how very corrupting!) I got to watch the rise of gangsta rap! You want to know about rap and r&b from the early 90's? You've come to the right girl. You want me to sing along to NWA, Snoop, Naughty By Nature, Dre, Tribe Called Quest, Keith Sweat, Salt N Pepper, Bone Thugs, etc - then you are in luck.

I'm not sure if the town realized that instead of letting us turn grunge and mope around, they let us turn bad-ass! I loved Boyz in the Hood and Menace to Society. I watched Comic View late at night. And in turn my mother started watching Comic View - to this day she still loves it and tries to re-tell the jokes that Shucky Ducky made famous. For some reason it falls flat when a 50-something white woman tells it. Oh well.

I just can't thank BET enough. In a time when country music was going to the dogs, BET came in and saved the children of NE Texas from teenage years spent doing the boot-scootin'-boogie.

Here are some phenomenal videos from a very special time in my life.

Keith Sweat : Twisted

NWA: Straight Outta Compton

SWV: Right Here

This Melted My Cold Hobbit Heart

I mean, c'mon. It's freaking otters holding hands!!!!! It doesn't get much better than this folks.

This Sums Up My Morning So Far

Gang-Banged: Or What I Look Like After A Weekend of Moving

Holy hell I look like I was gang-banged over the weekend....and NOT in a good way. In fact, if I could pick being just torn the hell up in the hot pocket by a band of random Hobos or doing what I had to do this weekend, which was move, I would choose the pounding by Hobos in a heartbeat. My legs, arms and torso are covered and I do mean covered in bruises. And for the record, those are NOT my legs in the photos. They are far too tan to be the legs of this imp.

I don't think I loathe any act more than the act of moving. I have moved 4 times in 3 years and I am officially over it. You probably would have come to that conclusion if you had seen me on Friday. Instead of taking some bulky furniture with me....like my television, shelves, etc - I ended up pitching to the curb at 6am. And only in LA would this happen - by 6:05am ALL of it was gone. Somehow my neighbors saw one piece go out to the curb and the next thing you know I see a band of critters skittering off with the furniture - VIA A DOLLY!!!! Those people do not fuck around. God bless em' though because I certainly didn't want to lift anything else.

So I spent 3 days moving and it sucked ass. But my fatal mistake was thinking it would be appropriate to get knee walking drunk on Saturday night in the middle of the moving weekend. Sure I had a fantastic time...but the 7-15 beers I am estimating I drank might have been a smidge excessive. I realized this in hindsight of course, as I was prowling the aisles of Costco yesterday willing myself to not pass out due to dehydration & exhaustion. Side note, if one finds themselves in a similar situation, a Costco Hot Dog & Soda for $1.50 really hits the spot.

It is now Monday. My bruised and battered body is all roughed the fuck up and I still have more to move .... life is cruel sometimes.

Medley for a V : Or why I refer to ladybits as Hot Pockets

I would love to take credit for calling a lady's loins, her "hot pocket", but alas that honor belongs to a little rapper that goes by the name of AMG in the rap classic "Medley for a V" by DJ Quick.

Well, I am assuming AMG is calling his tricks vagina a "hot pocket". I like to think I use my context clues pretty well but these rappers with their slang these days - well you just never can tell. Regardless, enjoy the glory that is one of my most favorite verses in a rap song ever:

"And I'll tell you all the things that make you laugh and giggle while I insert my inner self into your tender vittles. A hot pocket. Snoop told me to stop it. He heard me in the other room banging a broom."

Oh AMG, you amazing lyricist. Listening to AMG sing about inserting his inner self into a hot pocket is like reading the classics. That right there is romance. Pure, elegant, undiluted romance. If I ever met a fella who made me laugh and giggle you had better believe I would let him insert his inner self into my tender vittels. You don't find dapper gentleman like that anymore. He is a diamond in the rough. You only read about men like that in the classics. And the way he "flows". By god it is love poetry at its best. Yeats and Herrick got nothing on this shit.

Sexy Song of the Morning....

My loins are afire when Swayze starts crooning "she's like the wind" and the saxophone starts soaring....


She's like the wind...

Update on the Ole' Hobbit: Still Alive and Kicking!

I feel sort of bad as I received messages from friends making sure that I hadn't offed myself after yesterdays "pulling an owen" post. I am sorry for the alarm and don't worry, this little hobbit is still alive and kicking.

After a day filled with misery and shenanigans of the not so fun kind, the day ended up taking a turn for the awesome. And my night ended on a high note - me actually sleeping!

So, I have decided to showcase my awesome mood the only way I know how.....through something extremely 80's and awesome.

I'm still alive bitches!

Pullin' An Owen

If I had access to anything sharper than my blackberry or a binder I would attempt an Owen right about now. Not to make light of the elder Wilson's plight by any means.....but seriously. A sweet and well timed OD right about now would make my day.

Happy Birthday Gina!!

This birthday wish goes out to "Splashtastic"! Happy birthday, T!

We've shared many an adventure together. Pioneer rooms, mouthing off to Vince Vaughn, vodka shots at 2am, Karaoke bars in Burbank, Drinking games , Krunk juice and so many more.

Happy Birthday, Doodle!

Truly Outrageous - Truly Truly Truly Outrageous

Oh Jerrica!
You with your pink and white hear and flashing lcd earrings! You were a mere waitress by day (albeit a foxy waitress with a kick ass asymmetrical blue & white striped uniform) and a freaking punk rocker by night. You headed up what was one of the best faux-punk bands ever. On par with the Go Go's (sans "Head Over Heels" and "Our Lips Our Sealed" - which are legit classics) and at least 100 x's better than Expose. When you weren't rocking out you were making the hell out with your totes hot boyfriend Rio. Yeah, his name was RIO!!!! I am on board with any character named after a tropical local, a river or a Duran Duran tune. And the kicker? He had purple mother fucking hair. Sure I never understood why Synergy was in the picture and why she wanted to speak to you. I've always been leery of robots/computers that talk, so I never trusted her. But I did trust in Synergy's fashion sense and choice of light up star earrings. Those bitches ruled!

Speaking of bitches. If you had to have competition for your faux punk band, what better one than "The Misfits". The one point I will give them is that their name seemed a helluva lot more bas ass than Jem and her Holograms. I mean you see Jem and the Holograms on the poster at a bar and you might be thinking it was one of those awful laser shows where a cover band (Jem) sings Pink Floyd's "Money" covers. Aside from the better name, the rest of the rag tag band sucked ass. Their voices grated (and bared a striking resemblance to the lead singer of "Sugarland", Jennifer Nettles, voice - in a word. Awful).

I loved Jem something terrible. I loved the Dolls. I loved the cartoons. I loved the music. I loved the glamor and glitter the fashion and fame. She was truly outrageous and the music was indeed contagious.

What sucked about the whole Jem world was that the dolls were a good 1/2 inch taller than their Barbie counterparts. And not just taller, their hands and heads were pretty gigantic. In their own little world, the Jem chicks were hot. In the land of Barbies? The Jem gang were ridiculous. They looked like transvestites. Really scary, mannish transvestites.

I tried to not let the two worlds collide - Barbie and Jem - but they would occasionally when I would play with my older cousin. She was astute enough to realize the cross-dressingness of my dolls and would tell me that when we were playing Barbies, if I was going to play with the Jem dolls then they had to be a circus freak family. This would require me building them a shanty as opposed to them living in a wing of the dream house. Looking back I probably had more fun making Jerrica be a trapeze artist rather than some run of the mill, upper crust country club girl like the "Peaches & Cream" Barbie my cousin owned would be.

Whatever the case may be - I miss Jem/Jerrica. I miss the Misfits. I miss Rio. Hell I even miss Synergy.

Oh god to be young again.....

Pissing in the Bitches Ocular Cavities: Phil Hartman Rules

A friend and I were discussing an amazing scene from So I Married An Axe Murderer this past weekend. Sure most people want to quote the Mike Myers Scottish father screaming, "Head!" - but the real comedy gold is provided by one, Mr Phil Hartman. He played the Alcatraz guard, Vicky, who tells Anthony LaPaglia and Mike about an inmate who had a bitch.

I swear this scene never fails to crack me up. And on top of it, I pretty much stole all of my shiv references from this clip as well as the pissing in the ocular cavities quote.

Why don't you take a trip down memory lane courtesy of Vicky...

Sexy Crooner of the Afternoon: Neil Mother Fuckin' Sedaka!

Todays Sexy Crooner is:


I give you the man, the myth the girlishly voiced, Neil Sedaka folks!!!

Neil was blessed with a weak chin and a voice that Marsha Brady would have traded her date with Davey Jones to have. He was something that legends are made of. And he stole my heart with one high pitched chorus of "Laughter In the Rain". Also, as witnessed by the picture to the right, he was a fucking stone cold fox.

What I want to know is, where are sexy men like him around now days? Until I find one, I hope these two offerings can tide you over.

I need to fetch my smelling salts because just the mere mention of Neil's name makes me swoon.

Knees McGee: Keep the Dream Alive

This goes to a friend of mine, Knees McGee, who due to an unfortunate accident at her internship, basically had to have her leg chopped off and reattached. Sweet little Knees just dreams of dancing once again.

Keep the dream alive Knees and live vicariously through a man who moved like a fucking minx.....

Seriously, Folks. I'm starting to get a complex.

For the 1,000's time this year, I have been told that someone at a party questioned my sexuality. I've been able to laugh it off up to this point, but I think I have reached my limit.

As I have stated before, there is nothing wrong with loving a lady. But I am not in fact a lady lover, which sort of bothers me on a number of levels. And also might explain the failure of some past relationships, if the beaus of my past might have thought I was more interested in ladybits as opposed to what they were offering up.

I don't understand what sort of radar I am sending out that makes one think that I would be down for a sapphic adventure? Is it my quick not very feminine wit? My imp-like posture? My pioneer hands?

Holy crap. It's my freaking pioneer hands isn't it? I moisturize them obsessively and still nothing helps them out. For reals - I slather them in pure lanolin and I still look as if I spent the majority of my life building houses out of jagged pieces of glass with my bare hands.

Oh man, if I haven't just figured it all out. The short mannish nails and veiny, wrinkled pioneer hands. The ladies see those and the rest of my femininity gets thrown out the window. That would explain why it doesn't matter what I am dressed like or what I am saying and I still get people thinking I am down for some hot pocket love.

I need to have someone slice of my hands like Luke Skywalker and then replace them with prosthetics. Or I should at least invest in some gloves.

My hands have been salting my game for all these years and I am only now figuring it out....what a bummer.

I'm a Scandanavian River Muse - How did you spend your 4th?

Things I've learned over the past two days:

1. I know all of the words to "Enter Sandman" by Metallica. Apparently some karaoke I did a few weeks back really woke a beast inside of me. A beast that really, really likes to sing in public. And wasn't I the lucky one when the bar we went to on Thursday had Rock Band set up in the main room for all to partake in. I of course jumped at the chance to yet again embarrass myself in public. I remember trying to find a song to sing and Metallica seemed like a pretty sure fire way to make an ass of myself. I was worried because I only had one contact in and I assumed that I would have a hard time reading the words on the screen. Wasn't I the idiot, because as soon as the opening of the song came on it was like I was transported into a metal coma and I realized quite quickly that I knew every single lyric to the song. Which makes me sort of embarrassed and in awe of myself all at once. I decided after that performance to do an encore and give the people a real treat by singing "Epic" by Faith No More. When I was done the area where we were performing was empty. Totally cleared the room with my awesomeness. I am thinking of becoming a wedding/bar mitzvahs singer.
   
2. Apparently I am a Scandinavian River Muse. Listen, I have been called many, many odd things in my day. But I have never been called something so odd and yet so awesome at the same time,until yesterday at a 4th of July BBQ, when a man called me a Scandinavian River Muse. I am fairly certain he was on copious amounts of drugs and booze. Regardless, it was the most glorious thing I have ever been called. I am honored. I have no idea what it means. But I am really honored.
   
3. Never play drinking games with vodka. Amazingly, this was not a lesson I had to learn first hand. I have played enough drinking games in my day to know that you stick to beer and beer alone. But a sweet, naive friend of mine, who shall remain nameless decided to give it a go with some vodka. Dear God if this person wasn't a rockstar. I would have been dead two minutes into the game. They stuck it out, bless their heart. Of course you can imagine how this ended - not well. I consider it a lesson that had to be learned the hard way.

So, two days into my 3 day weekend and I feel like I have learned so much already! I can't wait to see what the next day holds for me.

The Hobbit of Hotness.

New Blog Name Same Ole Shit

You guys (ie- the 5 people who read this when they literally have nothing else to do) might have noticed a change in my blog title. No longer will you be reading Thoughts From A Shitbag. No! Now you will be reading Kenny Bloggins.

Don't worry, the blog will still suck. Nothing other than the name is changing.

In Honor Of Two Greats Coming Together

In honor of the pairing up of New Kids on The Block with New Edition, I have submitted for you two videos for your perusal.

First Up:

Cover Girl - NKOTB

To which I spent many, many a night dancing to in front of the mirror in my room in too big for me high heels and a Units dress. Side note, what the hell ever happened to Units? Those mix and match knits were freaking awesome! Anyway, after listening over and over to this song, I had high hopes of being the model they were singing about. And after viewing the hot piece of ass I have become, it is obvious dreams really do come true.

The second offering:

Popcorn Love - New Edition
This little ditty reminds me of my college boyfriend, who despite being born from one of the most white-bread families ever, only liked to listen to 1980's- early 90's R&B. I kid you not, the guy had no other points of reference. With that said, he instilled an appreciation for all things New Edition. Ralph, Bobby, Ron, Rickey, Michael - I celebrate all of their musical offerings.

I've Stumbled Across A Gem From My Childhood

This is probably the best random find for me...ever.

You have no idea how many times over the years my friend and I have sang the chorus to this song. It came on late one night on some random sketch show on Nick At Nite and for some unknown reason it was burned into my memory.

I give you Carmella and her international hit, "My Belly Button"....

Lorenzo Llamas

A common question to llama breeders is, "What do you do with llamas?" There are so many uses of llamas! Llamas by their nature make people feel more comfortable. Llamas are calm, quiet and majestic; the spirit of the llama is contagious to the people around them.

It is worth diversifying your portfolio to include llamas for more reasons than just making money. Llamas also bring you and your family fun and increased pleasure, and llamas will enhance your pride. Llamas are very prestigious; just take time to observe their proud, majestic presence and gentle disposition.

After you become a llama owner, your answer to the question, "What do you do with llamas?" will be, "What do you do without llamas?"

Thanks to Jenny for this helpful post!

Best License Plate Ever

I'm not sure if you can make out what the license plate says - so in case you can't, it says "HJ".

I am contemplating getting a "B J" vanity license plate. Or better yet, "HJ BJ RJ" - I think it is best to just put it all on the table and what better way to show the gentlemen what they are in for than by a customized vanity plate!!

This, along with the Will Arnett video, have made my week.

Happy. Freaking. Tuesday.

This has become my favorite video of the week. I am sure most of you have already seen it but if not get ready for a treat.

(side note, due to some singing and drinking this weekend my voice sounds oddly similar to Will Arnett's)

It's Official - I'm a dud!

Last year I tried to make a comment on my favorite website and they banned me after I submitted it because it was too boring (see my blog about it here: http://morganinla.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-suck.html). It really threw me into a tailspin, because the one thing I thought I had going for me was that I was implicitly not boring.

Well, I waited and I waited until the right article came along so that I could try again - that day came today on the sister site of the one that banned me. The article was right up my alley.

I read all the other entries and I really thought mine was on par if not a better story than the others. I made a screen name. I submitted my comment. And I waited for them to approve my comment...which they did not. Who doesn't like stories about Lionel Richie's "You Are"?? It was an article about "guilty pleasure songs". Some jackass put like, Dave Matthews. Fuck you! I passed out and had "You Are" on repeat for 5 hours with the volume all the way up and a neighbor had to knock on the door to get me to turn it off. Do you know that kind of mortification? The kind that can only come from getting busted for loving a song like that so much that you choose to pass out to it AND wake up to it? Well apparently they wanted me to feel another type of mortification. The kind that comes from getting banned from ever commenting again after submitting ONE FREAKING COMMENT.

Look, throw me a friggin' bone here!!! First Battlestar Galactica is on hiatus until 2009 (2009!!!) and now this. Whats next? Is this the ying and yang of the universe kicking me in the ass? The positive being I am moving from Hobotown, USA to a place where bums aren't giving rimjobs outside your window at 2am. The negative, I suppose, is being banned from 2, count em', 2, websites for being dull.

I think I will cut out early, head back to my place and sit outside with some of the vagrants that prowl the block. I know that they will understand my disappointment. Being banned from commenting is right up there with the suffering one feels after loosing their legs in Nam', being forced out into the streets where they have to give RJ's just to be able to afford a King Cobra from the 7-11. I mean, we are basically two peas in a pod.

I am sure after taking a few pulls off a warm 40 oz of malt liquor, the pain will be dulled and this will be just another dream that was crushed.