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Stop Making Sense…

March 6, 2013

My brain does funny things to me when I am sleep deprived.  And, whoa, am I EVER sleep deprived, my blogbabies.  I’ve had four straight nights of insomnia kicking my flat white ass, culminating in a two hour sleep last night which has left me an easily distracted, forgetful mess all day.  But, in all honesty, the strange roads my mind wanders down can be fairly amusing when I’m in this state.

It started with Twitter.  I was watching my Twitter feed scroll by and responding randomly to things I found interesting last night, and possibly not making a great deal of sense.  Then someone tweeted a song lyric, which I stared at for a long time.  People tweet song lyrics all the time… but I’m not entirely sure why.  I mean, maybe something in their life just happened, for which that particular lyric was totally appropriate.  Maybe it’s a song which has been stuck in their head all day.  Or maybe that song just came on the radio and it made them laugh or think, “hey!  I haven’t heard this one in a long while!”  BUT THEY NEVER EXPLAIN IT.  They just tweet out the lyrics.

So my sleep deprived brain began trying to comprehend the point of tweeting out song lyrics.  I had seen song lyrics a thousand times before, but only last night when I couldn’t focus, when I couldn’t quite get a firm grasp on reality, did I suddenly want to understand the purpose of tweeting song lyrics.

Right?

Right?

If You Can’t Understand ’em, Join ’em

So I decided to figure out what all this tweeting lyrics was about.  I thought long and hard (no, seriously, completing a thought was both difficult and time consuming last night) and came up with a song to tweet about.  Okay, to be fair, I didn’t ACTUALLY tweet lyrics, but rather a smart-ass comment referring to a song’s lyrics.  But I thought maybe this might be my entry into the lyric tweeter’s secret society.  I would tweet this magical line, and some Fraternal Order of  Song Lyric Tweeters would quietly DM me the instructions to the secret handshake.

I typed, hit send, and waited for the magic to happen…

Freshmen…and waited

…and nothing happened.  Nobody replied.  No DM or anything.  It just hung in the twitterverse like a giant digital fart that, no matter how I tried, I could not blame on the dog.  So I decided I must be doing it wrong.

And Then… a Moment of Clarity

Then, sometime around 4 a.m., it hit me like a bolt in the dark (is that a phrase?  Do people say, “bolt in the dark” or is my sleep addled brain mixing metaphors on me?  Only in this case in a simile instead of a metaphor. Where was I again?  Oh right…)

What if… it’s a giant conversation that we just don’t get.  Somewhere out there, people are actually tweeting conversations which make perfect sense , made up ENTIRELY of music lyrics!  Oh ho ho!  Am I on to something here?  You be the judge, based on these totally hypothetical conversations which COULD actually happen.

Conversation 1: Between a Real Estate Agent and a Client

…to the lyrics of Smash Mouth’s “All Star”

R.E.Agent: It’s a cool place.

Client: And they say it gets colder.  You’re bundled up now wait ’til you get older!

R.E.Agent: But the meteor man begs to differ (judging by the hole in the satellite picture)

Client: Hmm.  Makes sense.  Does it have a pool?

Bam.  Totally legit conversation… sorta.  Or how about this one…

Conversation 2: Between a Mother and Son

…to the lyrics of the Decemberists’ “(From My Own True Love) Lost at Sea”

Mom: Four score years, living down in this rain swept town.  Sea salt tears, swimming round as the rain comes down.  Mister post man, do you have a letter for me?

Son: Geez, mom.  No, I haven’t emailed you back yet.  Way to be dramatic, though.

Conversation 3: Between an Unemployed Husband and His Wife

…to the lyrics of the Simon and Garfunkel song “The Boxer”

Husband:  Asking only workman’s wages I come looking for a job but I get no offers

Wife: Really?  Hang in there, honey!

Husband: Just a come-on from the whores on seventh avenue.

Wife: What?!

Husband: I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there.

Wife:  That’s it.  Divorce.  Your shit will be out on the lawn.  Talk to me through my lawyer.

Wife: Seriously?!  NO JOB!  Going to whores?

Wife: Spending MY MONEY!

Wife: Oh.  And I faked them.  ALL OF THEM.

See… he really should have just tweeted the one line there.  Kinda brought it on himself though.  How about this possibility…

Conversation 4: Between Two Men Bragging About Their Girlfriends

To the lyrics of the Talking Heads’ “Girlfriend is Better” and Ludacris “My Chick Bad”

Man 1: My chick bad, my chick hood.  My chick do stuff that yo’ chick wish she could.

Man 2: I’ve got a girlfriend, who’s better than that.  She has the smoke in her eyes.

Man 1: Her swagger don’t stop, her body won’t quit.  So, fool, pipe down, you ain’t talkin’ ’bout shit!

Man 2: She’s coming up, going right through my house.  She’s gonna give me surprise.

Man 1: All white top, all white belt, and all white jeans, body looking like milk.

Man 2: I’ve got a girlfriend, with bows in her hair.  Nothing is better than that, is it?

Man 1: Doh, but I ain’t talk about Homer.  Chick so bad, the whole crew wanna bone her!

Man 2: Stop making sense!  Stop making sense!

Man 1: Chef cooking for me, they say my shoe came crazy. The mental asylum looking for me.

Man 2: Stop making sense!

Man 1: Making sense?

Whoa.  I know!  Now that whole crazy ass shoe line makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?!  LUDA was totally talking to David Byrne through this whole song!!  And whenever the two of them meet (which, probably happens quite often), they totally do the secret handshake of the Fraternal Order of Song Lyric Tweeters

………or.  You know.  Maybe I just need some sleep.

secret handshake

 

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12 Comments
  1. If it is a conspiracy, then it’s one I’m not privy to. Don’t feel bad, you’re not the only one.

    • See? That’s just it! All the good conspiracies are the ones we’re NOT privy to! Like the conspiracy that put an end to the use of the words strumpet and kerfuffle for example. Yeah. How about that?

  2. When I tweet/FB lyrics it’s because it’s code to someone, somewhere who will get it but the rest of the world won’t and that’s sneaky, sexy, hot

    • Ahh. Well, there you go. I’ve never been sneaky sexy hot. More like, vaguely, strangely agreeable.

  3. This is the moment shit got real… I need to start making a difference and tweeting lyrics.

    It’s all so clear now.

    Hugs!

    Valerie

    • Tweet some lyrics from Tijuana Val. Like, something relevant. Maybe something about a Donkey show and cheap fireworks? I think Peter, Paul, and Mary had a song about that…

  4. mylifeaslucille permalink

    You know the whole chicken/egg thing? Are people tweeting lyrics? OR are songwriters covertly using our tweets to write chart-topping songs??? I’m so confused right now.

  5. Awesome, I believe you have uncovered the ultimate conspiracy.

    From now on we shall all communicate entirely in song lyrics. Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Damnit…that won’t work…

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