Today's earworm: trucker's delight

I heard this long years ago, and every time I go past the produce section in a supermarket, it bubbles back to the surface....
  

go ahead.  Toot.   We all have to do it, occasionally.

Today's earworm: booming business

It's been a few weeks since I posted any earworm.  There have been no days gone by since, that I have lacked the sound of a song in my head, but I have spent the past three weeks with a computer that was too slow and uncooperative to go digging up swell videos of anything, so I've had what amounts to a forced vacation (and weren't you relieved?).

Anyway, for no apparent reason, John Lee Hooker has been rattling around here for a few days, now, so I figured I'd let you have a taste of what I heard while I was trying to sleep, last night....



Dunno if it will do you the same, but, well, it could be worse -- the booming in my ear, the one I could have placed in yours, could have been Pat Travers' cover of Boom Boom (Out Go the Lights).  There's just no sex appeal in that one.

And I wasn't even wearing boots

While I'm working on the computer or watching television, I generally sit with my feet up, on a footstool or an improvised footstool, with a blanket draped over my feet and legs.  And, generally, there will be a cat resting somewhere in close proximity to my feet, when I'm settled in.

And, under normal circumstances, the blanket is necessary, since we keep the thermostat at a ridiculously low temp, because we don't need to roast.  However, the house was warmed, yesterday, to accommodate the needs of a friend who had come over for lunch and a movie.  Needless to say, when my friend went home, the house was still warm enough I did not need a blanket over my feet.  Indeed, I was enjoying running around barefoot (and sitting around barefoot, too).

I had taken my shower for the evening, and applied my appropriate lotions and skin creams (all labeled as safe for children and animals, largely due to my allergies), then plunked myself into the chair to play a game or two on the computer, my girl kitty Maus stretched across my shoulder and the back of the chair, and the boy kitty Lucas decided he needed to be between my feet, on the chair I used as footstool.  It was all very nice.

But then, for some reason, Lucas took an interest in removing the skin cream/lotion from my bare ankle.  Honestly, it was one of the strangest sensations I've ever experienced.  This cat is not gentle in his cleaning practices.  And, when he was finished with my ankle, he moved down the foot, completely removing all the cream I'd applied to the top of my feet and toes. I'll never be sure whether he thought my skin treatment smelled and tasted yummy, or he wanted to clean that foul stench away before he curled up and went to sleep nearby.

I think I indulge the animals too much.  I should have just pulled away & let him have the chair... but I can't resist an animal which strives to curry favor.

How do they know?

This afternoon, before I was to ready myself for the great out-of-doors, I decided to use up a little of the milk and eggs in the bat's fridge -- I have intolerance for certain foods, and these are near the top of the list, so I have to use them sparingly, which means, when the parents go away for any length of time, their dairy products and such tend to spoil, unless I can find a way to bury them in something else and share them around.  Of course, occasionally, the recipes I follow are the sorts of things I am reluctant to share... today's was one of those.  I decided when I woke up this morning that I would make a batch of Frogs' Eyes in Mud.  I was not expecting my student to stop in, since there were other study issues for her to address (she was expected to go straight to her own home after school let out, instead of settling in for an art session).  Yesterday was my sort-of-semi-monthly visit from my bestie from childhood, for whom I fixed a batch of honey-wisky-sauced sweet potatoes and sacrificed a beef pastie.  Nobody else just "drops by" in the afternoon.

Both of them did.

Not that I'm complaining.  I made a double batch, and, considering how rich the Mud is, it would take me a week to consume a single batch on my own, so it's a very good thing they popped in to help me out with a gallon of very fudgy, chocolatey pudding.  Plus, I sent a pint tub off with my student, for her mother to share at supper (they're going to another friend's house for dinner).

But still... I didn't have the vent fan running, so all the aroma was contained to the interior of the house.  I wasn't advertising my kitchen plans.  How did they know to come over just as I was finishing up?  How did they time their surprise arrival so well?

As a result of their coming over, I, unfortunately, did not get out to run those errands (again!).  This, of course, feeds my deep-seated guilt.  OTOH, it's always nice to see these people, and there's no guilt at all in seeing their smiles...  how did they know I needed that, too?

I do not think it means what you think it means...

So, I finally saw the "trailer" for Newt Gingrich's PAC-made hit job on Romney.  Quite frankly, I hope it backfires HUGELY on the Newtster.  I could have, and did, early on, stood in support of Gingrich as he entered the campaign.  I liked his style in the debates, and I liked quite a bit of his message.  From the first, I recognized he wasn't exactly perfect, but he seemed, last autumn, to be better than the rest by just a shade.

Boy, howdy, how that changed!

In case Newt ever gets directed toward this little post, I'll direct the rest to him.

Let me set you straight, Newt, honey.  Some of us out here in flyover country liked you until you started whining and whingeing about things not being fair...  once those words left your lips (or your staff's keyboard, if you will) your shine diminished greatly.  We were especially unimpressed by your complaint against the Commonwealth of Virginia, for its long-standing rules regarding entry into their primaries.  You live there.  You should have at least done your homework on your adopted home state.  To blame Virginia for your failure demonstrates your mettle is less than advertised.

But then, you made matters worse by complaining that there were "mean" and "ugly" advertisements run against you in Iowa.  I must admit, there were commercials which painted you in less-than-flattering light, but when you called for the Waaaambulance again, you punked out, painted yourself as the loser.  It was your reaction, not the negative ads themselves, which cost you support out here.

But now, since it's obvious that the public agrees with the party leadership, that you are not the candidate of choice, you have decided "the gloves are off." You have no problem letting your PAC launch an ugly hit piece against the frontrunner of your own party.  Well, that's fine.  Mitt's a big boy.  He can defend his own record, his own name.  But what's not fine is the choice of subject matter for the attack.  You and your loser pals have decided to go after Romney for being a successful capitalist.

You talk about Mitt's career with Bain as though it were nothing but malicious search-and-destroy, deliberately shutting down perfectly good businesses just for the joy of watching people lose their jobs.  Well, old son, that dog don't hunt around true conservatives.  We understand that what Bain was doing was actually trying to save businesses, because killing an industry loses money for all the investors.  Most of the businesses which were shut down in South Carolina due to restructuring under Bain's hand shut down because unions refused to yield enough to save the businesses, or even worse tangles.  But you sell the fiction that it was Mister Potter's evil clone who done them wrong...

Congratulations.  With your whining about "unfair", with your trying to change the rules of the election just because you didn't get what you wanted, with your mud-slinging and badmouthing a business and a businessman for being successful, with your lashing out in malice because you couldn't win, you are positively... Democrat.

Today's earworm: Blame the primaries

For the past week (since the end of the Iowa caucuses), I've heard little on the news except the "upcoming Republican primary" in New Hampshire", and that the mobs of journalists would be amassing in Manchester... so, naturally, an entire week of this has been going through my head.



Aren't you grateful I didn't post it sooner?  It could have stayed with you, too, for all that time.

And that Williams fellow is always a Treat, isn't he?

Today's earworm: like a big long ride

In light of the massive amount of press so many of the OWS crowd got for their piteous mewling over not being able to get a decent job in their fields, I thought somebody ought to teach them to repeat one key phrase from this song...



The world don't owe nobody no livin', no matter how much we'd like it to.

Plus ça change

In skimming the pages of a volume I brought home from auction, I found these words:

Alas, my Friends, credulous incredulity is a strange matter.  But when a whole Nation is smitten with Suspicion, and sees a dramatic miracle in the very operation of the gastric juices, what help is there ?  Such Nation is already a mere hypochondriac bundle of diseases ;  as good as changed into glass ;  atrabiliar, decadent ;  and will suffer crises.  Is not Suspicion itself the one thing to be suspected as Montaigne feared only fear ?

The book?  Thomas Carlyle's The French Revolution, bound in leather and marbled paper.  This copy has seen better days, as has France, but it certainly has an interesting few points... if you're inclined toward revolution.

On the plus side, I'm informed it was one book Samuel Langhorne Clemens read repeatedly throughout his years. On the minus side, the above paragraph was one of the few which were not so convoluted as to be incomprehensible to the modern reader.   I reckon it will take a few years to wend my way through it, in hope of finding a few more gems like the above.

And, now, a new earworm, too...

Today's earworm: with a request for aspirin

In light of last night's revelries, a small request...


hush hush...

And, have a happy New Year's Day.

Today's earworm: is that Long Island Iced Tea?

Watching the Marx Brothers in "Monkey Business" this afternoon, and hearing this tune in the midst of a Chico medley, it stuck... I suppose I'll need a good mixed drink or two to clear it from my head, or, perhaps Nat King Cole will smooth it out...



If this won't do it, nothing will.

There you go.

Today's earworm: holy day edition

Today's earworm: with gumdrops

So, when you handle a mess of gumdrops, what phrase naturally comes to mind?   My best bud and I were packing candies for Christmas and Hanukkah prezzies, and, of course, this little ditty kept repeating and repeating...



Not that there's a problem, yet, but, when you're handling pound after pound of sweets, you sort of have to worry that somebody is going to end up bigger than these ladies, combined.  That's a lot of joy, during the holiday season.

Today's earworm: Faithfull follower

Some evenings, this little melody comes back to me in the voice of Mick Jagger, some in my own magnificent contralto, and, more often than not,  in hers.



It's worth it, any way you play it.  Until the seventeenth consecutive hour you hear it.  Then, it's just another annoying tune.  So, play it with care.