The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘song’

Attn: Ellen (8/29/18)




Back (apologies for my handwriting!)



The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

My son is now a big one year old! That’s exciting! And the dog, I think as a self-preservation technique, has started to go deaf. Good thinking, pooch!


P.S. Headed to listen to a train toy sing about the alphabet … for the 17th time this morning.

Why am I doing this?



It’s in His Kiss

Let’s dive into the oldies song, The Shoop Shoop Song (It’s in His Kiss). This is a song where the main singer could, understandably, get pretty frustrated.

Why? Because she is apparently talking to a bunch of duimmies who don’t know how to listen.

Let’s take a look.

The song starts off simply enough, the lead singer is telling us about a fella, her friends ask a few questions, and then she quickly reveals the secret to seeing where you stand.

Does he love me
I want to know

How can I tell if he loves me so

Is it in his eyes?

Oh no! You’ll be deceived

Is it in his sighs?

Oh no! He’ll make believe

If you want to know if he loves you so

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is
Oh yeah

Great. Secret revealed. Let’s move on. Right? Wrong. Because these dumb dumbs weren’t paying the SLIGHTEST BIT OF ATTENTION.

Or is it in his face?

Oh no! That’s just his charms

In his warm embrace?

Oh no! That’s just his arms

I mean … come on, guys. Pay attention. And you can tell she’s getting a little short with them explaining that a hug is done with arms. Boom. Take that zinger.

The singer then goes on to once again explain that it’s in his kiss. She really spends some time on it.

And guess what happens as soon as she’s done explaining again? Yep.

How about the way he acts

Oh no! That’s not the way

And you’re not listenin’ to all I say

At this point the lead singer is really calling them out. But they respond with an equally sharp rebuttal by ASKING THE SAME QUESTION!

How about the way he acts

… At this point the lead singer essentially loses her poop (that’s the PG version!) and goes nuts, singing it’s in his kiss over and over and over A LOT. See, check it out.

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is
Oh whoa it’s in his kiss

That’s where it is
Oh yeah it’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

Ooh it’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

It’s in his kiss

That’s where it is

That’s the insane singings of a crazy person. And she was driven crazy by her listening-challenged friends.

Next time you enjoy this great oldies hit, remember that you are listening to someone’s mental state collapse before your very ears.


Squatter’s Writes

A friend of mine might be joining a band, so I went ahead and wrote a song for him to dazzle his new bandmates. It’s called Squatter’s Writes.


Squatter’s Writes

(to the tune of Bye, Bye Miss American Pie)
Many, many moons ago
There lived a man who you might know
His name was Henry David Thoreau
And he wrote this book while feeling … the flow

(A slow-moving, reflection kind of tone)
When nature speaks you shut up and listen
If you don’t your brow will glisten
Dig a hole in the ground
Let your imagination go to great heights
Because buddy, pal, my main muchacho,
We’re talking ‘bout Squatter’s Writes

(A mix of country and rap, a crap if you will)
While writing Walden HDT only ate prunes
He kept a journal out in a field
He wore wool socks to keep warm at night
Talking to himself was more than all right
He’d sit there answering nature’s call
Reflecting, and writing, about it all

U.S. Army – Wrecker of Love

The end of sixth grade was coming fast, and with it, a move. This time I’d be going from Leavenworth, Kansas to West Point, New York.
School would finish, I’d go to Arizona to see family on summer break, and then on to NY. Life was going to roll on by pretty quick for a while – but not before an important life event.
My first girlfriend.

At school with about a week of school left I was stopped by a girl.
Would I want to go out with her best friend?!
I did some quick thinking. The obvious answer was: no.
I didn’t want to go out with anybody.
I’d found girls pretty, or at least appealing since I was young. I’d just never wanted to date a girl. Really, I didn’t mind not talking to them. I liked it a lot if they found me funny, and I liked to imagine dating girls – but reality is much harder to control than my imagination, so I stuck with that.
I had no confidence. I was a romantic conspiracy theorist. Why did that girl just smile at me? Oh, it’s a joke! That’s so mean! Any thing that should’ve been perceived as a girl having a crush on me I saw as some attempt for me to lower my guard, only to then be made fun of.
But if this girl wanted to date me until I moved, whatever floats her boat.
Thus began my romantic life!

You’d think – with me ‘going steady’ (that’s just funny to me), that my life would change a lot.
I’d have to sit with the girl at lunch, or nearby her at class, or walk with her in the hallways – but no, none of this happened. Looking back, I probably was supposed to do these things.
I assumed our relationship was just in title, not in deed. So she could say, “yeah, that’s my boyfriend over there … He’s so … Oh … Don’t look at him, he’s trying to figure out how much of his peanut butter sandwich he can fit in his mouth at once. Gross.”
Unfortunately, I didn’t know until then that middle school girls love the telephone.
“Hello … may I ask who’s calling? … Oh! … One second! … BRAD!”
Who would call me? I thought, Why is my mom grinning?
“Hey Brad!”
What? First, who calls me? Second, a girl?!

I came to realize it was the “girlfriend.” And her friend who had asked me out.
I got the cordless and headed to my room. Once I was in my room I was sure a family member (possibly several, led by my mother) would creep up and eavesdrop. Fuel for making fun of me.
I didn’t want to be talking on the phone – it cut into my video game time. Or TV time. Or playing with my dog. Or anything-but-talking-on-the-phone time.

One day the two called and they sang me a song. Yes, they sang to me. At the conclusion of the phone call I applied my best charm to say, “Yeah … well … it stinks about my going to New York, huh?”
“Ya know, New York …”
“You’re going on a trip to New York!!”
“Ha, no! I’m moving … there …”
Uh oh. Had I forgotten …
“… What?”

I had forgotten to tell everyone but my closest friends that I was moving. And my closest friends didn’t include a single female. I hadn’t thought much of it but this was especially bad because we lived off-Post in Kansas so my friends didn’t up and move like clockwork. What a weird concept!

My budding love came to a screeching halt. All blame, of course, goes to the U.S. Army.
How dare you, wrecker of love!

%d bloggers like this: