“Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight?
If mother says don’t chew it do you swallow it in spite?
Can you catch it on your tonsils and heave it left and right?
Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight?”
“Whoooooooo are you?” Me.
“Who, who, who, who?” Still me.
“Whoooooooo are you?” Me again.
“Who, who, who, who?” Jesus, haven’t you gotten it through your thick skull? It’s me!
“Tell me, who the hell are you?” Gosh, if you’re going to be that way, then I’ll just leave.
When did I get… where did I… why am I lost as a lamb?
When will I know… where will I… how will I learn who I am?
Is this a dream? Am I here? Where are you?
Tell me, when will I know, how will I know, when will I know why?
My response:
Gawd, save us from freshman philosophy students. And don’t Bogart that, kid. Pass it over here.
I’ve been wanting to start a thread like this for a long time!
This isn’t exactly a question, but at my last job there was a song they’d play in the store that went “abracadabra/ I wanna reach out and grab ya” and I would think, “Holy shit, this guy wants to mug me or worse”. That song seriously creeps me out.
Another one that always bugs me: You’re So Vain by Carly Simone. Of course this song is about “me”, rrrgh! It really pisses me off when she goes “don’t you, don’t you, don’t you?” Stop pestering me about it! Why do people even like this song?
To the Pixies: I’m pretty sure it’s inside your skull.
The answer to “Where Is My Mind?” of course
To New Order in response to Blue Monday: What do you mean? How am I treating you? I’ve never even met you?
To The Replacements: You say goodnight to an answering machine the same way you say it to anything else. Hopefully you’ve figured that out by now.
I’d like to post something useful in this thread, but I’ve got nothing. I’m posting only because Kytheria recently confessed her deep, dark, dirty animal lust for me in another thread.
IANAD, but you could have one take a segment of a healthy blood vessel from another part of the body and attach one end onto the aorta and graft the other end to the coronary artery somewhere below the blockage.
Listen…
Yes? Do you want to know a secret?
Sure. Do you promise not to tell?
Yep. I promise. Woah oh oh oh… Closer.
Huh? Let me whisper in your ear.
… alright. If you must. Say the words you long to hear…
And those would be…? I’m in love with you!
Crap! Not so loud! You’re talking right in my ear for pity’s sake.
Do ya do ya want my love, woman?
*Hmmm…what exactly does this entail on my part?
Do ya do ya want my face (I need it)
*Heck no! Not unless the dog tears me up and I need a transplant. Even then, I might wanna look around, see what’s available.
Do ya do ya want my mind
*Look, this is getting weird
Do ya do ya want my love
*I think we should just be friends.