YSaC, Vol. 985: Kind of Blue.
walkin the talk? (dabba dee abba da-ee)
when you close your eyes, the star you see is the bindi you wear.
its sort of like the spectra of the rainbow except red isn’t the end-game
just picture a sunrise and you’ll better understandwhite means you are close to the next stage of enlightenment
yellow
orange
red
purple
blue
blackyours was blue, but now it is getting darker.
soon you will see only the dark-star
if you are luckyatonement for transgressions when able is righteous
atonement
at one ment (mind)at that point, after atonement, and with enough work,
the dark star emerges and turns blue again
and you still have so long to gooriginal lyrics to eiffel 65 = “im blue and in need of a guide, im in need of a guide, im in need of a guide, im in need of a guide”
or you can wear it as a pretty accessory too.
it comes with a t-shirt “i read a book once”
and a convenient buddha patch
gar-un-teed to bring enlightenment at the next drum circle or your moniez back
*raises hand* Waiter? I’ll have whatever she’s having.
(Wait, did I really just make a When Harry Met Sally reference? I should be ashamed of myself. For that, and for totally coveting Meg Ryan’s hair in that movie when it came out. It was 1989, folks … I didn’t know any better. Nobody did. Her hair was awesome in that movie, by 1989 standards. Thank goodness civilization has continued to progress.)
So if I’m understanding this correctly, whatever color I see when I close my eyes is how close I am to enlightenment. Or is it determined by how annoyed I am by the song in the video? I’m assuming that the murderous rage I felt at the earworm would really set me back on the path to enlightenment, regardless of the color of the computer screen-shaped image I see when I close my eyes.
What was that I just said about civilization progressing? Yeah, I think I was wrong about that.
Thanks, TacoSis!
What disturbs me is that this person may actually be a licensed psychologist practicing one of the newfangled “techniques” called “Brainspotting”.
“In “inside window” Brainspotting the therapist and client participate together to locate Brainspots through the client’s felt sense of the experience of the highest intensity of affect/body distress. Brainspotting can be done with one eye or two. Brainspotting can be directed at distress and Brainspotting can be directed at establishing and strengthening resources. ”
Brainspotting – “We’ll take your money and make your life full of distress, just like heroin! But you don’t get high. There’s that little detail …”
Funny, I always just use brain bleach when I have brainspotting problems.
If you’re have some problems with spotting, I know where you can get some
pantylinersskull liners.If that’s the only thing disturbing you here, I’m concerned.
“gar-un-teed”
:snerk:
I’m picturing Justin Wilson whipping up a batch of hushpuppies while telling a story of fishing with his daddy.
Ooooh…Look…It’s a double rainbow.
If you see a double rainbow it means you were a unicorn in a past life.
Or there’s an amoeba living in your optic nerves.
I thought is was the Sterno…
Sterno causes you to see music, not rainbows.
It’s probably ’cause you fell asleep and forgot to take your contacts out.
If it’s a varigating rainbow, it could be an ocular migraine.
Or, the acid is finally kicking in.
I say it’s the acid
I see tessellated rainbows.
Too… …much… …YSAC…
has given… …me…
…BEES EYES.
aieeeeeeeee
AHHHHHHHHH!!!! Wait, you don’t mean eyes made out of bees do you?
Oop, dropped an ‘
But no green. Clearly, this is the result of a vast conspiracy headed by Al Gore.
Or Al Sharpton…
The answer is always Al Gore.
Why do I have to get up in the morning?
Al Gore
Who is that passed out on the lawn?
Al Gore
Why is the sky blue?
Al Gore
Aieeeeeeeee da ba de da ba di
::still running::
Why don’t you use the BeeTruck?
Bees, bees, too many bees.
Tessellated trucks, tessellated rainbows.
da ba de da ba di aieeeeeeee
\☺/
≈│
≈/\
/ /
` `
Nice dancing! You seem rather disconnected though. Have you been doing the acid?
Dark Star crashing…
Yup. Take enough acid and it all makes sense.*
*This may not actually be true.
Finally, a way to kick my three-deity-a-day habit!
Thank you, Crazy McSparklepants!
I wonder if Crazy McSparklepants is related to the Carolina McSparklingtons…
I’m ashamed to say it, but they are both part of the Scottish branch of the Sparklington family tree.
Not too many forks in that particular tree.
Red black
Blue brown
Yellow crimson
Green orange
Purple pink
Violet white
White white
White white
White white
All our bindis are dark stars,
Walking the talk.
This post leaves my brain with scars;
I want to squawk.
How dare they try to sell this nonsense?
How dare they try to sell this nonsense?
They think they’re such a catch;
They’ve got a Buddha patch,
Pretending it’s a chore
T’ include a shirt and more.
On Craigslist
We rediscover sensation.
On Craigslist
We rediscover sensation.
Walking the talk,
We find the purpose of peace.
The beauty of life
You can no longer hide.
Our eyes are open.
Our eyes are open.
Our eyes are open.
Our eyes are open.
Wide wide wide!
I’m Rinso white—I’m invisible!
And yet in the video, they are all wearing black.
Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do. I’m a dog. I don’t see any colours*. Stupid hippie neo-religions.
* [Dog Corey] I know, despite the common misconception, technically dogs aren’t colourblind, but they have far fewer cone cells in their retinas than humans do (but many more rods), so their colour gamut is small and washed out. [/Dog Corey]
You think you have it bad, I’m a spectral feline. I don’t even have eyes anymore!
But I’m sure you can still find your way to trip the humans even without eyes. It’s like a 6th sense for cats.
It’s number 8, right after Hearing The Can Opener From Another Room and Finding Open Laptops and Books To Sleep On.
And right before Knowing When a Human’s Bladder is Full and Stepping Directly On It.
Is that before or after Here’s my butt. Look at it. Let me get closer and raise my tail.
After, mudsy, but before how about I do figure-8’s around your legs while you try to navigate the stairs without falling down and breaking your neck.
Which is all before the ever popular, this present goes in their shoe, hope they’re appreciative of my efforts.
Isn’t number one Here, Let Me Ignore You. Always.?
So THAT’S what’s been happening to me. Here I thought I was just clumsy. I’ll have to phone my family and let them know that when I trip and it’s not directly because my cat Sadie tripped me, it’s because of the spectral felines. That will bring them no end of comfort.
I found this one some time ago… and I’m still too baffled to come up with anything this early in the morning. I’m going to go slice myself some coffee, concentrate on separating words out into phonetic segments until something comes to me.
I’m just glad I finally know that ment is the same as mind.
We’re all mental.
Speak for yourself, Windy. I think I may have lost my mind. 8)
Mine left on the midnight train to Georgia awhile ago which is saying something since I’m in Ohio. Sometimes I wonder what it is doing. Is it seeing anyone? Then I remember I still have my eyes.
There’s a shot for that.
What happens when your table is red, though?
WHAT DO I DO?!
Sell it.
For free (that’s the secret part).
I am much more concerned about forgetting that THE CARSEAT IS PINK.
There sure is.
I’ll fetch me musket.
Nope, they found out the shot isn’t as effective as the pessary.
This corner’s comfy, think I’ll make myself at home.
Aww…look…the Smurfs are sad. Musta been a bad year for the berry patch.
[corey]
Hey sparky, the lyrics are “Da ba de da ba di” not, “I’m in need of a guide”.
It’s a fairly minor thing, as those lyrics made the top 10 misheard lyrics of music history back in 2005. Can’t remember who did the “study”. Probably MTV or something.
It was ranked above “Pour some sugar on me.”
[/corey]
Brool Story Co: Back when the song was relatively new, one of my bosses asked me to find the lyrics because she was having a debate with her son about them, who thought the lyrics went, “I’m blue, if I was green I would die.” I obliged and she got to prove her son wrong.
I’ve also heard “I’m in need of a diet” and “I’m in need of a dye” from others.
My favorite was “I’m in need of a guy.” And from my parents’ era, “There’s a bathroom on the right.”
AR – Ah yes…the old “bathroom on the right” line…one of my favs. As is the one my sister came up with “with 400 hundred children and the cops in the field”.
I thought it was “I’m in need of a guy”. humph.
But even when I know the lyrics it doesn’t stop me from hearing the wrong ones. For example: “blinded by the light, wrapped up like a douche another runner in the night…”
Silva, I don’t care what the “official” lyrics claim, that *is* what he’s saying!
Reminds me of another favorite song: Fishmaster.
Silva, the only wrong word is duece instead of douche. 8)
Technically, “wrapped” is wrong, too.
Blinded by the light
Revved up like a deuce
Another runner in the night
The “deuce” in this case being the Ford “Deuce” Coupe.
Although if we’re using the original Bruce Springsteen version, it’s “cut loose like a deuce.”
Aaaand now I have both Manfred Mann and Beach Boys stuck in my head.
I would think it would be a blessing not to have a member of that band on your spaceship. I mean, these are supposed to be a more intelligent species since they made it to our planet right?
Maybe they just needed to make a right back at Albuquerque
I always thought it was dah bah dee bah ooh dah (close enough and still nonsensical) but now that Sparky has opened my ey- ears, I hear “I’m in need of a guide”, too. Anyone know the cure for this?
A sharp blow to the head should do it.
*Hefts Mr. Crowbar*
Need help with that?
Yo listen up, here’s a story
about a sparky who lived in a dumb world.
And all day and all night
and everything he says is just dumb,
like him inside and outside
And Dumb his brain with it’s one little cell
And a dumb cortex
And everything is dumb for him, and hisself
And everybody he knows
‘Cause he ain’t got nobody to smack him.
He’s dumb, “I’m in need of a guid, I’m in need of a guide…”
Also, I apologize if that seemed more mean spirited than I normally am. Tron woke us up at 2am this morning and wanted to get up and play. After telling him that wasn’t going to happen he proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs for a good hour before finally passing out.
I was so wound up by then that it took me a few hours to mimic the unconscious state.
Taco no in good mood today.
*backs up 18-wheeler loaded with pallets of coffee slices*
Taco, where’s your forklift?
Damn, I left it in my other pants.
I bet you tell that to all the girls.
My Other Pants is the name of my Weezer cover band.
Except TacoMa’am. I’m betting that she wouldn’t want to hear that.
IF: I bet they do an excellent cover of “The (Other) Sweater Song.”
The other sweater is blue
I personally think they meant to say they were in need of a Guido.
Aren’t we all?
Mmmm, no.
Depends on if I have room in the freezer.
So Auto-Tune is used by aliens? I’m not surprised.
I think the Super-Bowl halftime show this past year is evidence enough of that.
I’m still mad that I satisfied my curiosity and watched it on YouTube. That’s twelve minutes of my life I’m never getting back. And I could have used that time to make myself a sammich!
Or to watch an apple turn brown.
I’m just going to sit here on my lily pad and see what I want to see. Dark star, Death Star, it’s all the same to me. Dobabididdy.
While Blue (Da Ba Dee) is undoubtedly earwormy, I’ve come to associate Blue with this song and video. On the surface it’s one in a line of song-based pitches for undergarments, but lurking beneath that minty marketing shell is a pitch-perfect, Weird Al-worthy sendup of Coldplay and the neo-Britpop sound.
Aw, bloody hell, now I’ve gone and managed to earworm myself. Time to fire up Pandora and crank some Broadway showtunes as a counteroffensive.
I keep hearing Elvis Costello’s “Almost Blue.” Works for me.
I’m getting Neil Young “Blue, blue windows behind the stars…” and I’m ok with this.
Nice choices Lola and ponchomoose. I love “Almost Blue”.
Oh and Neil Young too. I prefer him to most Neils. Neil Diamond, Neil Sedaka, Al Gore…
Elvis Costello is my favorite artist ever; so much so that I named my son Declan after him. Now that’s dedication.
Ok ok it’s also a name that my family uses from generation to generation but that wasn’t why I used it.
Ah-kun, you are in the box again. It has corners, too, just in case you need one.
[Semi OT]
Ah-Kun made it into TWO boxes today. Both here and also my weekly “The Corner”.
DOUBLE BAUXED! Rev up your brass knuckles Windy, you’ve got some punchin’ to do.
[/OT]
My blog’s top search hit these days: Hardcore Video.
*Facepalm*
There are some disappointed 14-year-olds browsing to my blog.
They lack creativity in their search terms so it’s their own fault.
Maybe they were looking for that Hypnotist music video “Hardcore You Know The Score.” Maybe.
And maybe Elvis is swapping fried sandwich recipes with Sandra Lee.
Is that what the kids are calling it these days?
Some poor soul has been searching for “modern major mineral” (with quotation marks) for over a week and getting my site. I have no idea what they are actually looking for.
Presumably, they’re after that lesser-known Gilbert & Sullivan comic opera, The Geologists of Taco’s Pants.
I am the very model of a modern major mineral
I’m calcium, magnesium and silicates and chemicals
I’m used for keeping healthy and I’m good at things industrial
I am the very model of a modern major mineral
many doors for that, smiley puppy!
I’ve gotten three people so far getting there by some variation of “markis parker trokers”.
That was awesome Mindfield
I’ll take How You Can Tell Fungi Have Gone Bad for $600, Alex.
The answer – A craigslist ad you post after consuming bad ‘shrooms.
What is
No, I’m sorry, the last phrase should say t-shit, not t-shirt. And that brings us to the end of round 1 of Jeopardy, back after this.
Thanks for joining us for round 2. Our judges discussed our contestant’s answer for the $600 clue in How You Can Tell Fungi Have Gone Bad and they’ve decided to grant him the credit because he may have phrased his answer in deference to the censors, so he automatically said t-shirt instead of t-shit.
[ot] over the weekend I finally succumbed to the encouragement of a friend and started my own blog, The Blog of a Tall Tale Teller. I had so much fun writing the story of Satan picking up the negligent dad, especially describing the visuals of the scene. As much fun as I have writing stories, I decided to start sharing them in my own blog. So far you can only find two stories there – the Satan story and one I wrote several months ago that was not posted on or inspired by YSaC. Come by and read the second half of the story posted below, and while you’re there say hi.
[end advertisement-of-self ot]
Link, plz, Yancey!!! Thank you.
This link takes you to the complete story I posted above and clicking on my name takes you to the blog.
😀
I like the ad box that popped up with today’s words of wisdom
WhyHow toMedicateMeditate.My ad box is for Teen Wolf on MTV. HA!
Yet again, I am forced to channel Jane Lynch in A Mighty Wind – “We call ourselves WINC – Witches In Nature’s Color… This is a religion that exists only in my own head.”
I love you for mentioning that movie.
[matt, corey, whatever] I own the soundtrack… and NOT for its mocking value. Because I truly enjoy the music. I don’t care what that makes me. [/matt, corey, whatever]
[OT]I love Harry Shearer immensely even though I always picture him as he was in Wayne’s World 2. Or pulling a foil covered cucumber out of his pants. Picturing those two images juxtaposed is disturbing me.[/OT]
Sidenote: He has an awesome radio show called Le Show. You can get it off of his website.
Le Show is a fantastic balance of snark and thoughtful information – usually about the Army Corps of Engineers, foreclosure and the current banking fraud, or nuclear energy. I particularly enjoy the juxtaposition of Shearer talking about Our Friend the Atom and his work on The Simpsons.
Yup yup yup. I think his playlist is awesome too. I have found many great artists I didn’t know about through that show.
‘it comes with a t-shirt “i read a book once”’
Unless that’s an allusion to something hip that I don’t know about cause I ain’t hip, that’s pretty damned funny. I’d wear a shirt like that.
I now have that song stuck in my head. Awesome.
I have also read a book once. Hell, I’ve read some books multiple times!
I booked a red(head) to jump out of a cake once. Unfortunately we neglected to mention that it was yellowcake.
I mean, we said we were sorry, but her next-of-kin wasn’t having any of it.
It’s hard to explain suffocation in uranium to relatives.
funky monkey’s name immediately gave me the earworm to “Brass Monkey” which in turn reminded me that there was a radio blurb this morning about the Beastie Boys’ new album and video/short film, in which the radio announcer mentioned that it had been a quarter-century since “Fight for Your Right to Party” came out, at which time I was in high school but not quite old enough to drive. Thanks, NPR, for making me feel positively geriatric when you put it that way. See if I send you any money in the next pledge drive!
/curmudgeonly matt in need of a flask and some Geritol
I heard the same thing, but what got me was Mike D talking about how he has to explain to his children that he gets paid to swear. The idea of my teenage idol having spawn of his own, not to mention the notion of Mike D, Family Man, completely wrecked any delusions of youth I had remaining.
I hear you, dude. I don’t even have a lawn but hearing that made me want to go yell at some kids to get off of it, except I think they’re his kids.
Oh, sigh. Now I’m imagining Mike D changing diapers, helping with long division homework, and driving the soccar car pool. It’s un-nerving. Kind of hilarious, but un-nerving all the same. Like Lola and IF, I feel old, now.
What makes me feel old are the “things kids graduating high school this year will have never known” (or “have always known”) pieces.
You bet your ass I’ve got the plans laid out for the most awesomest lawn on the block, complete with an automated active pedestrian denial system.
Yeah, you go ahead and try reaching those azaleas without a valid RFID fob.
Oooh and also – apropos comic, though I think someone here linkety linked to it last week or so…
It might have been me as I’ve linked XKCD multiple times; though I know others drop XKCD links here as often as I do.
Geeks travel in packs, you know.
Sorry about the traumatic flashbacks caused by my name. My punishment = I still have the da doo ba dee da boo da going thru my noggin. I can barely work.
No worries, fm. The radio segment had already done the most damage anyway.
I avoided the ‘funky monkey’ earworm as I don’t know what it is, but instead ended up with a truly hilarious/terrible (hilterribous?) earworm which I’m delighted to
inflict onshare with others!!!This is Suzanne Paul – a lady famous over here for doing infomercials in the 90s for utter rubbish, and with a bizzarely out-of-place West-Midlands accent – and her ‘dance track’ called “the Blue Monkey”.
I saw a picture of them today. They really ought to change their name to Beastie Grandpas or something. They are hardly boys. Of course, this makes me older than dirt. Mindfield, may I borrow your cane to shake at the youngs? I assume you have one as the ultimate accessory to your pedestrian denial system.
So what section of CL is this posted under? Is Sparky selling something? Buying something? Looking for love?
Probably personals. Generally if something is really, really bizarre and pointless it’s in the personals.
He/She is looking for a blue alien to call their very own.
Will he love him and pet him and hug him and squeeze him and call him George?
Yes!
It appears to have been posted in rants and raves, which leads me to suspect that Sparky is looking for love in all the wrong places.
Shows how much I read the actual Craigs List – I didn’t even know there WAS a rants & raves section.
I am not sure that is an area I would read voluntarily. My fragile brain may implode.
It’s the nutty center of the CraigsList candy bar.
There’s candy
inon CraigsList? Where???AR, I wouldn’t get too excited. Even if it is kosher, it’s probably still one or more of the following (in which case you probably don’t want it anyway – this is CL):
– got an accordion on it
– stained by a late auntie
– misspelled to the point you don’t even know what they are advertising
– only available to you if you walk past a specific Starbucks carrying a certain type of handbag
– only for Markis Parker Trokers
– PINK, THE CANDY IS PINK
– blended in with the cheese (a) on a Lionel Ritchie head, or (b) in a nacho cheese fountain
– French Perventional
– divided by zer- (oh shi-)
Rants and Raves is the 4Chan of Craigslist.
Or so I’ve been told.
Good call, Lola. Good thing you’ve got my back!
Appears to be a classic case of Skittles overdose.
Nah. Skittles OD presents with a complete lack of punctuation and spacing in addition to questionable grammar. This was more like a normal snack session of a particular type of brownie.
Freaky-puppy…
Don’t you mean:
NahSkittlesODpresentswithacompletelackofpunctuationandspacinginadditionto questionablegrammar Thiswasmorelikeanormalsnacksessionofaparticulartypeofbrownie
I would have had I just gorged on Skittles. But then I would have been too busy tearing ass around the city chasing mail trucks to bother typing that.
I don’t think you could walk this Sparky’s talk. Unless Sparky is secretly a very clever dog who can type. OMG MF!
Sorry, it’s not me. I need a lot more beer in my bowl before I reach those levels of incoherency.
OT: Why do I have “Numerology: Your Name is No Accident” ads on my sidebar? I was totally hoping that my name was just as much an accident as was my birth.
The Truth is a cruel Mistress. 🙁
I was seeing those as well, and wondering what qualified as an accidental name. Despite what they may be frequently called by so-called loved ones, I don’t know anyone whose government name is actually an expletive indicating unpleasant surprise.
My Mom calls me Smartass sometimes.
But not by accident, I’ll wager.
Nope, I pretty much deserve it almost all the time. 🙂
Why does the idea of nominative determination have anything to do with numerology?
And yes, nominative determination is a real thing — I guarantee it, or my name isn’t McDonald’s Fry Cook.
Are you sure it’s not 666? Because I can totally see the numerology connection there.
The best thing that Numerology taught me is that vague, generalized yet still pseudo-declaritive statements totally apply to me if I consider them after I’ve supplied my own context!
Awesome, huh?! Numerology is way more accurate than fortune cookies when the predictions are considered retroactively! How spooky is that?
…in bed.
I would support numerology more if it came with a dessert. Do they make Numerologic Fudge?
Oooh, you get to be a cook? My name is Bathroom Mopper, so the best I can hope for is to work somewhere where people throw up in the bathroom less than once a day.
This is starting to sound like a Goblins group.
Can I be, “Throws Large Teeth”?
Can I be Stake Whittler?
Oh, I’ll definitely be, Shirt Shoveler [aka Shit Shoveler].
That would be an awesome superhero name!
Then I’d have to be:
Laitfer Wurke
Mine was. My parents were dead-set on having a boy. Wouldn’t let the doctor tell them what I was going to be. Didn’t pick out a girl’s name. I was going to be Charles Jr.
Surprise, I was a girl. In the hospital after I was born they scrambled to think of a female form of that, and so I’m named Charlene. Which is why I don’t like my name :/
Could have been worse, they could have named you Juniorella or something like that.
Or just gone ahead and named your Charles Jr.
*Gasp* Not her Charles Jr*!!!
*Upsetting not.a.euphemism of the day.
I knew a family that had six girls, and every one had a boy’s name with a feminine middle name or a feminine form. They were sure they were having boys each time. They finally adopted a boy. The one I remember was Danetta.
Edited by WR with help from AR.
No joke, there’s a girl who went to my middle school who was named Bobette. That was her full name. Bobette.
Still not as bad as the girl who went to my elementary school who was named Ecstasy, though.
I went to school with a Bobette (or possibly Bobbette) as well. Her sister had a gender-neutral name. There were no boys in the family that I recall, so perhaps the parents were disappointed in this fact.
Psst, Windy, you dropped some e’s. Do you have to send yourself birdseed for fixing your own comment behind the scenes?
EEEeeeeek. Ahem. Thanks, AR. I’ll put it on my tab.
such good snark
even if much of it left me behind
such is life long enough lived
not all references grok
but, needing an XP disk to do a Repair install and not having one is a bad combination, too . . .
too much to do, and I need my desktop back.
and do not have enough actual CDs to format and start over (the o/s cd’s absence being telling).
now, back to my weary, away away
Close your eyes.
Center yourself.
Focus on your star.
Tune out inputs from the world around you.
Have you found your still place?
Good.
::whack::
That’ll cure what ails ya’.
I wondered where Mr. Crowbar went.
Punching out a little ahead of time, Ah-kun. Today was a very tiring day.
Taco, if you want me to punch out at your blog, too, we need to discuss payment terms. I demand no less that what the Llama-nun and Ostremu pay me.
G’Night, Zorotl!