22 September 2006

6 it's a man man!


in their tennis whites and war paint, man man pretty much rock rocked our world. we love loved them. look how cute cute they are. big big yay.

but to dwell on the bad bad for a moment: while man man rock rocked, make believe decidedly did not rock rock.

(clark binga binga, think: flux, jimmy, sweatpants, "magdelena." horror!)

the only make believe lyric i could discern was i want to make the bed with you in it. i laughed so hard and tried so hard not to laugh harder that for a split second i thought might throw up.

there's nothing quite so wretched as watching uncomfortable people sing. they need to be confident and they need to rock. this dude either had the plague or was on a really bad trip. when his opening move was to wipe snot on his sleeve and pull up his pants, it was pretty obvious we were doomed.

but maybe he could have redeemed himself were it not for the dancing. o the dancing. like watching someone trying to seduce and initiate painfully awkward sex with their imaginary friend. in other words, very very bad bad.

6 comments:

nick said...

the idea of having to initiate one's imaginary friend in sex is hilarifying. i mean... it's your imagination. if that's what you need, shouldn't said imaginary friend already be ready to jump your bones?

Les Savy Ferd said...

not this guy. he would have to do some serious seducing in order to get his own imagination to cooperate with him. And fascination with his own (bad) hair! He ran his hands through his hair more times than Dennis Miller on his old HBO show (you know, when he was a liberal).

All'n'all tho it was a great night out on the town. Wish you woulda clipped a pic of B-spot walking nobly up the stairs to the green room, but we can't have everything now can we (Steinbrenner[sp?] excluded)?

oline said...

i really failed us as paparazzoline. the photograph of the bern trepedatiously climbing the stairs behind a plaid clad man man would've been priceless.

nick said...

dougO hits two things that make me suck air backwards through my teeth in one blogment - steinbrenner & dennis miller. hiss!

at least man man was great great!

Osutein-sensei said...

My imaginary friend doesn't even speak to me anymore, let alone sleep with me. At least I still have the voices in my head.

oline said...

my imaginary friends, rhonda and minor, disappeared. i think, tired of me always buckling their seatbelts, they ran off together, had imaginary sex and took to a life on the streets.