You wouldn’t want me any other way

Okay, after my lovely Floydian post yesterday, this morning on the radio I caught another song that is a little more “up.” And I think we can all agree that Up is better than Not Up.

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for
Turn out the light
Don’t try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right

The best part? It was sung by The Chipmunks. Volunteer radio rules.

just another happy-go-lucky entry

Well, this song has been IN MY HEAD for days now. I’m hoping by finally posting the lyrics it will stop. Maybe.

And its too late to loose the weight
You used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down, alone
Dragged down by the stone

You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you’re on the street
You gotta be able to pick up the easy meat
With your eyes closed
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking

And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You’ll get the chance to put the knife in

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it’s going to get harder, and harder and harder
As you get older
And in the end you’ll pack up and fly down south
Hide your head in the sand
Just another sad old man
All alone and dying of cancer

And when you loose control, you’ll reap the harvest
You have sown
And as fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone
And its too late to loose the weight
You used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down, alone
Dragged down by the stone

I gotta admit that I’m a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I’m just being used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise
If I don’t stand on my own ground,
How can I find my own way out of this maze?

Deaf, dumb and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone’s expendable and no one has a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do
Would be to isolate the winner
And everything’s done under the sun
And you believe at heart, everyone’s a killer

Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told what to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was fitted with collar and chain
Who was given a seat in the stand
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a stranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was dragged down by the stone

I gots ta know

Okay, this week I’ve been getting dozens (if not hundreds) of hits from people who have apparently looked up “silly boobs” using google image search. It yields this picture which I posted back in June, and the GIS will send you to my June archive page.

So somebody please tell me: for the love of pete, why? Why are people suddenly interested? And these hits are from all over the globe. This morning there was one from Saudi Arabia (which seems like a strange place to be surfing the net for boobs, to me)