Thursday, October 28, 2004
Baseball and Bad Songs: A Great Way To Spend A Thursday Morning
In case you've been living in a bomb shelter and did not hear the gleeful screams of the Red Sox Nation last night (you guys, I just typed that with zero irony. Wow), The Red Sox won the World Series for the first time since 1918. And in a sweep, nonetheless. They really are the little team that could. Did I tear up during the celebration? It's a possibility, but I will neither confirm nor deny.
World Champion or not, I refuse to stop making fun of Pedro Martinez. All together, now: Pedro has a jhullet, y'all.
Also in need of a hair intervention: Bronson Arroyo. Cornrows are bad, mmmkay?
I made a comment recently about Mark Bellhorn (the stoned looking one) always looking like he's been rocking the ganj pretty hard. But he's been hitting so well lately that whatever stash he has is working pretty splendidly so, Mark? If you're reading this? Hook me up.
So anyhoo, I was casually reading about Johnny Damon and came across this interview. Johnny sez:
ESPN: Hey -- or we can. Speaking of those crazy high jinks, John Smollick in St. Louis writes, "I want an herb garden. What do you suggest I start off planting?"
JOHNNY: Yeah, I can't answer that.
ESPN: Maybe he doesn't mean those kinds of herbs.
JOHNNY: There is no other answer to that question.
If that is not a confirmation of my theory, then I don't know what is. Is Johnny the hookup? This is very, very interesting.
As exciting as this postseason was-and it was, like, tremendously exciting-I'm a bit sad that it's over. I don't want to wait until April for more baseball! It's too far away. Poutpoutpout.
I was recently complaining (what? Me? Never!) about the sad state of popular music, citing how the lyrics to Nelly's My Place inspire rage and homicide. Well, I think that The Black Eyed Peas and Let's Get It Started may be worse. Let's investigate.
It begins with Fergie blatantly cribbing the opening of Alicia Keys's "Fallin'". Please add another column to the "Fergie Sucks" chart that we should all have.
In this context, there's no disrespect, so, when I bust my rhyme, you break your necks.
Um. I don't know what that means.
We got five minutes for us to disconnect, from all intellect collect the rhythm effect.
Yeah, still don't know what that means.
Obstacles are inefficient, follow your intuition, free your inner soul and break away from tradition
I started to understand the song at this point. The lyrics are dumb, but they at least make sense. Kind of.
Coz when we beat out, girl it's pullin without/You wouldn't believe how we wow shit out/Burn it till it's burned out/Turn it till it's turned out/Act up from north, west, east, south
Aaaand, they lost me.
Everybody, everybody, let's get into it/Get stupid/Get it started, get it started, get it started/Let's get it started (ha), let's get it started in here.
Dumb, but okay.
Here's where it gets good. Well, "good".
Lose control, of body and soul/Don't move too fast, people, just take it slow/Don't get ahead, just jump into it/Ya'll here a body, two pieces to it
Buh?
You'll want me body people will walk you through it
What?!
Step by step, like you're into new kid.
This line is rather controversial. The first time I heard it, I thought it was "like an infant New Kid", which just makes me think of a baby Jordan Knight getting his groove on. Some lyric sites agree, but others think it is "into new kid". If New Kid were capitalized, I'd say that the BEP are way into 90s teen pop. As it stands, I have no idea what it means, so I am just going to think of the NKTOB (don't front like you don't know what that stands for) dancing around.
Inch by inch with the new solution/Trench men hits, with no delusion/
The feeling's irresistible and that's how we movin
It's like gibberish, people.
Let's get ill, that's the deal/At the gate, we'll bring the bud top drill. (Just)/Lose your mind this is the time/Ya'll test this drill, Just and bang your spine
What the fuck?
Bob your head like me APL de, up inside your club or in your Bentley.
Get messy, loud and sick/Ya'll mount past slow mo in another head trip/(So)
Come then now do not correct it, let's get ignant let's get hectic
There is no God.
Wretched. It's just random words set to awful music. But I'm not sure which is worse-The Black Eyed Peas and their Gibberish, or Nelly fighting with the preteen he drives to the mall. You tell me.
Mallory at 10/28/2004 11:14:00 AM
3 Comments
-
at 7:08 PM
said... "Pedro has a jhullet, y'all" is my absolute favorite thing to say in conversation now, thank you.
And Nelly is worse, no doubt.
Tryntze-
at 3:05 PM
said...
Bob your head like me APL deSo in that version they changed it from "bob your head like epilepsy"?
Gah.
-kayte-
at 10:05 PM
Mallory said... Amish_Mafia, you just blew my mind. That actually makes sense! I guess I have to give them a little bit of credit for namedropping the New Kids. Sigh.
Yeah, Kayte, they totally did. The BEP have no balls. Gah indeed.