Yes I Do
Went to the hockey game Friday night, and it was very entertaining. The Missus and I met a couple of friends for Mexican food, then met 2 more friends and we all enjoyed the game - the Steelies won, and looked good doing it.
Woke up Saturday morning and thought I was still at the ice rink. The heater had died on us, so we lay there for an hour saying,
"You want to go check it?"
No, do you?
"If you loved me you'd get up and see if you could fix it."
If you loved ME, you wouldn't ask, David!
Of course the heater's in the garage, where it was 19 degrees, but eventually I got up (in a manly fashion), put on layers and layers and, with screwdriver in one hand and pliers in the other, looked at it and said, "hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm............"
We spent a lot of time away from the house this weekend. Saw a movie. Went to church. Ate dinner out. Went to a basketball game. Stole two space heaters from the church, and hooked 'em up in the bathroom. And this morning I called a guy who came and spent 20 minutes fixing it, then handed me a bill for $111. Money well spent. (by the way, I did call someone else on Saturday, but he never called me back. after that we decided we could tough it out and not pay the weekend surcharge.)
So that's what's happened since I last posted. That, and exciting action on the GPaWF. Someone started a thread about "most annoying songs ever" and we got a serious contender here, my friends, a real fingers-in-the-chalkboard composition:
Boy George's masterpiece "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?"
Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes. Not for your makeup, George. Not for your hair. Not because you're a guy wearing a dress. Just for this annoying song. It's whiny and pathetic. It's moany and weak. It asks a question we're only too eager to answer "YES! Yes we DO want to hurt you, you MAKE us want to hurt you, so JUST SHUT UP!"
If you don't know, or have locked it out of your memory, DYRWTHM was pounded into our brains in the '80s, in a way that no prisoner at Abu Ghraib was ever tortured. It was all over the radio. It was twice an hour, every hour, for weeks or maybe months. I'm so glad Dad never let us have MTV because then I'd have been forced to watch it as well as listen to it. Thank the Lord for small favors.
Yes, it is truly annoying, but now I have a problem (I know, I know - I have many, but only one related to this piece of musical melancholy): My beloved Missus likes it. I admit I haven't asked her; as far as I know in 15 years the song's never come up in our conversation. But our tastes in music are pretty much incompatible. What I like, she doesn't. And what she likes, I run from. Tomorrow this space will feature a quiz, His or Hers? and you can see how well you know us by guessing who owns which CDs. But for now I'll leave you with these two requests:
Pray for me, since she'll be singing it tonight after she reads the blog; and, If you ever meet Boy George, tell him to put a sock in it, will ya?
Woke up Saturday morning and thought I was still at the ice rink. The heater had died on us, so we lay there for an hour saying,
"You want to go check it?"
No, do you?
"If you loved me you'd get up and see if you could fix it."
If you loved ME, you wouldn't ask, David!
Of course the heater's in the garage, where it was 19 degrees, but eventually I got up (in a manly fashion), put on layers and layers and, with screwdriver in one hand and pliers in the other, looked at it and said, "hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm............"
We spent a lot of time away from the house this weekend. Saw a movie. Went to church. Ate dinner out. Went to a basketball game. Stole two space heaters from the church, and hooked 'em up in the bathroom. And this morning I called a guy who came and spent 20 minutes fixing it, then handed me a bill for $111. Money well spent. (by the way, I did call someone else on Saturday, but he never called me back. after that we decided we could tough it out and not pay the weekend surcharge.)
So that's what's happened since I last posted. That, and exciting action on the GPaWF. Someone started a thread about "most annoying songs ever" and we got a serious contender here, my friends, a real fingers-in-the-chalkboard composition:
Boy George's masterpiece "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?"
Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes. Not for your makeup, George. Not for your hair. Not because you're a guy wearing a dress. Just for this annoying song. It's whiny and pathetic. It's moany and weak. It asks a question we're only too eager to answer "YES! Yes we DO want to hurt you, you MAKE us want to hurt you, so JUST SHUT UP!"
If you don't know, or have locked it out of your memory, DYRWTHM was pounded into our brains in the '80s, in a way that no prisoner at Abu Ghraib was ever tortured. It was all over the radio. It was twice an hour, every hour, for weeks or maybe months. I'm so glad Dad never let us have MTV because then I'd have been forced to watch it as well as listen to it. Thank the Lord for small favors.
Yes, it is truly annoying, but now I have a problem (I know, I know - I have many, but only one related to this piece of musical melancholy): My beloved Missus likes it. I admit I haven't asked her; as far as I know in 15 years the song's never come up in our conversation. But our tastes in music are pretty much incompatible. What I like, she doesn't. And what she likes, I run from. Tomorrow this space will feature a quiz, His or Hers? and you can see how well you know us by guessing who owns which CDs. But for now I'll leave you with these two requests:
Pray for me, since she'll be singing it tonight after she reads the blog; and, If you ever meet Boy George, tell him to put a sock in it, will ya?
posted by David Hardesty | 1:11 PM
4 Comments:
The Missus does NOT like Boy George and finds the song "DYRWTHM" extremeley annoying. There's a reason why in 15 years of marriage this discussion hasn't come up--she doesn't like George! Ok, no one's going to see this comment because no one ever reads these comments because they don't notice the comments option, so I can't set the record straight, but let it be known still.
love, the Missus
Honey, you're great, and I'm glad you also think DYRWTHM is musical purgatory.
Apparently someone does read the comments. Someone from Boston, for example. The M., your record is straight with me.
STEVEN! Nice of you to check in. I was thinking of you today, and hope all is well with you and all the little(r) Yehs.
So, what do YOU think of DYRWTHM?
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