Will it go round in circles
Mar. 18th, 2009 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogI need some expert help extracting a song from my head.
ETA. No more telephone calls, please, we have a winner! Play along at home for your own amusement, if you want; answer's in the first comment:)
Earlier today, they were playing an irritably infectious tune at the gym, screamed real loud so even Carbon Leaf on my .mp3 player couldn't drown it out. This one, I've figured out: it's something by a two-person tag team from hell called the Ting Tings titled "That's Not My Name," and clicking this will put it into your head, too, in all of its earwormy glory.
That, however, is not my problem.
Its cadence, and some of its lyrics, are half-tripping another brain cell which holds the age-and-alcohol-destroyed remnants of another song which I know- I KNOW- but can't place for the life of me. Was it a novelty record? On a movie soundtrack? Beats me- and I've been beating my head against the wall trying to recall it.
Its chorus (for lack of a better term) had the identical beat and went like this:
They call me [something]
They call me [something else]
They call me [some third godsforsaken thing]
then, an ever so slightly pregnant pause, and at a slower tempo and virtually spoken,....
They call me Eddie.
Or maybe not Eddie. This could be a mondegreen of my mind right up there with "there's a bathroom on the right." Googling anything with "Eddie" as one of the keywords yields an infinite number of monkeys banging out references to Eddie Haskell, Eddie Jones, Eddie Rabbitt and even the immortal Eddie Cleanhead Vinson, but nary a one leading me back to where this reference originated.
Help, oh help, beloveds. I need to reboot this system before the Ting Tings win.
----
Unrelatedly, I had a brief moment of win myself yesterday, in the schadenfreude department. As I sailed along into the left turn lane to get home, I got to pass not one but two Hummers stuck in traffic in the through lanes on Sheridan Drive. Each, of course, with only one occupant. (Gotta leave room in the passenger seat for the assault weapons, dontcha know....)
That wasn't the best part, though. The best part was that the one in front was the bigger, even more obnoxious H2, while the one immediately behind him was the far more economical and eco-friendly H3. Which meant the latter asshole had to sit there, through at least two light changes, having to look at someone in front of him who had an even bigger surrogate dick than he did.
I almost took a picture of the two of them there, two pees in a pair of pods as it were, but then I remembered the likely assault weapons and decided to pass.
But not on the lyric help. Please. I'm dyin here.
ETA. No more telephone calls, please, we have a winner! Play along at home for your own amusement, if you want; answer's in the first comment:)
Earlier today, they were playing an irritably infectious tune at the gym, screamed real loud so even Carbon Leaf on my .mp3 player couldn't drown it out. This one, I've figured out: it's something by a two-person tag team from hell called the Ting Tings titled "That's Not My Name," and clicking this will put it into your head, too, in all of its earwormy glory.
That, however, is not my problem.
Its cadence, and some of its lyrics, are half-tripping another brain cell which holds the age-and-alcohol-destroyed remnants of another song which I know- I KNOW- but can't place for the life of me. Was it a novelty record? On a movie soundtrack? Beats me- and I've been beating my head against the wall trying to recall it.
Its chorus (for lack of a better term) had the identical beat and went like this:
They call me [something]
They call me [something else]
They call me [some third godsforsaken thing]
then, an ever so slightly pregnant pause, and at a slower tempo and virtually spoken,....
They call me Eddie.
Or maybe not Eddie. This could be a mondegreen of my mind right up there with "there's a bathroom on the right." Googling anything with "Eddie" as one of the keywords yields an infinite number of monkeys banging out references to Eddie Haskell, Eddie Jones, Eddie Rabbitt and even the immortal Eddie Cleanhead Vinson, but nary a one leading me back to where this reference originated.
Help, oh help, beloveds. I need to reboot this system before the Ting Tings win.
----
Unrelatedly, I had a brief moment of win myself yesterday, in the schadenfreude department. As I sailed along into the left turn lane to get home, I got to pass not one but two Hummers stuck in traffic in the through lanes on Sheridan Drive. Each, of course, with only one occupant. (Gotta leave room in the passenger seat for the assault weapons, dontcha know....)
That wasn't the best part, though. The best part was that the one in front was the bigger, even more obnoxious H2, while the one immediately behind him was the far more economical and eco-friendly H3. Which meant the latter asshole had to sit there, through at least two light changes, having to look at someone in front of him who had an even bigger surrogate dick than he did.
I almost took a picture of the two of them there, two pees in a pair of pods as it were, but then I remembered the likely assault weapons and decided to pass.
But not on the lyric help. Please. I'm dyin here.
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no subject
Date: 2009-03-18 07:35 pm (UTC)Which I got because of the song "Enid", which although originally written/sung about a woman could relate to my town.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-18 07:37 pm (UTC)Wait. I loved you before.
I pinky-swear-love you.
Or something.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-18 08:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-18 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-18 10:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-19 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-19 12:36 am (UTC)http://www.joshilynjackson.com/mt/archives/000995.html
Joss is 39 flavors of awesome, so if you do wind up bouncing through the Met at the same time as her, be sure to give her a serious remote hug for me.
(And stay on through the comments on her entry; you'll see some familiar noses.)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-20 10:52 pm (UTC)Hummers crack me up everytime I see them, because I have the sneaking suspicion that these idiots actually think they are getting something similar to the military Humvee, when nothing could be further from the truth. The H2 and H3 are merely big sheets of metal on a truck frame. BTW, I'd ridden in an actual military Humvee, and my back and butt NEVER want to do it again, nor would anyone else's.