Lyric Writing For Dummies

I'm listening to the radio, and that song by The Killers comes on... you know the one.

"I've got SOUL but I'm not a SOLDIER!" (repeat. a lot)

What does that even mean? Last time I checked, one was not required to be a James Brown impersonator to get into the army. In fact, I think they discourage that.

And it's not even a little throw-away lyric either. It's the biggest hook of the song. It's the lyric you would sing to the hapless min-wager at HMV if you (like myself) did not know the title of the song and (unlike myself) wanted to buy the album. See, to me, it's the same deal as singing

"I've got LICE but I'm not a LICENSED PRACTITIONER OF NEUROSURGERY"

See? Not so good.

Pondering Pudding

"The holiday season, when a young woman's fancy turns lightly to thoughts of pudding." I doubt Alfred Lord Tennyson could have said it much better himself (given his present condition).

Let me start by saying I am not a subscriber to the belief that the British are entirely terrible cooks. I canceled my subscription to "Boiling The Living Fuck Out Of Vegetables Monthly" just last week, as a matter of fact. But jokes aside, I could honestly drink Worcestershire Sauce by the bottle. Thank you, United Kingdom, for that culinary treasure. Crumpets are okay too.

One thing I don't trust though is British pudding. While more often than not, when a friend from across the pond offers you pudding, they do indeed mean some sort of Jell-O instant chocolaty goodness, the word "pudding" can be used to encompass a variety of more sinister semi-solid foodstuffs as well.

Take, for example, the bubonic pudding. Erm... I mean the black pudding. Either way, the stuff should be avoided like the plague. Who thought this stuff was a good idea? Why did it catch on? I always get this mental image of a sweet little old granny rushing about her kitchen, preparing for her grandchildren to pay a visit. Lo and behold, she discovers she's out of pistachios. Oh bother, what will she use to flavour her pudding now? Then suddenly it occurs to her. She picks up an axe and hobbles to the barn. Oink. Chop. Thud. A few moments later, Granny returns with a jar, glistening crimson with the old sow's vital fluids. There's a different gleam in Granny's eye now as she stirs the viscous substance into her pot. Won't the grandchildren be surprised!

Then there is the matter of Figgy Puddings. I have never actually heard of these outside that popular albeit redundant Christmas tune, "We Wish You A Merry Christmas". The line, "Now bring us a figgy pudding," honestly baffles me year after year. And to make matters worse, the next verse of the song informs me that the Carolers in question won't go until they get some. Could someone please just tell me what a Figgy Pudding is so I can get these figging Carolers out of my FIGGING HOUSE? If they start singing Feliz Navidad, so help me God, someone's going to get a knuckle... pudding.

And of course, the holiday festivities would not be complete without the reading of that beloved Charles Dickens' classic, "A Christmas Carol". Yeah, forget Jacob Marley and The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. For sheer creepiness factor, how weird is that part where the Cratchit children whisk Tiny Tim off to the wash-house 'that he might hear the pudding singing in the copper'? Uhh... I don't think that "singing" is a verb i personally want applied to my dinner, thanks. But oh, those lovable Cratchit imps.

God bless us, every one. And also our freaky singing pudding.

This is why, this is why...

Dare to Compare!

If ever my ego starts getting too big, you need only point to a little facebook application known as "Compare People" to knock me clean off my pedestal. My current Compare People claim to fame is that I am the fourth-most preferred person in my network to be stuck on a desert island with. And here's me without a prepared acceptance speech!

You tolerate me! You really tolerate me!

Okay, okay, so really my standings don't actually bother me. My real complaint with this application is that every time I use it, it manages to bring up my two cousins and ask me which one I would rather sleep with. I've got 79 people on my friends list for it to choose from, yet every single time it manages to pit my cousins against each other in a bid for my incestuous love. Thank heavens for the "skip" button, although a "burn my eyes out and shower me with disinfectant" button would be useful on those occasions as well. The developers would be well advised to keep that in mind for Compare People Version 2.0. Honestly, the only reason I can think of for Compare People's constant repetition of that question is that the application itself is actually a sentient being. A SENTIENT BEING THAT ENJOYS WATCHING ME PUKE IN MY MOUTH A LITTLE EVERY TIME IT ASKS ME WHICH OF MY RELATIVES I'D RATHER BED!

Ahem.

You are a dick, Compare people. A total dick. So why do I not delete you, you heinous application? Oh, come on. We both know I'm addicted. I don't know why seeing two pictures of my friends side by side and having to choose which one has the most hair or is least likely to be rabid is so therapeutic to me, but it is. Oh Compare People, how could I stay mad at you? My applications are like my children...

And you dear Compare People, are my second-favorite child. Right after Graffiti Wall.

Fourth-most preferred on a desert island my ASS.