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Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Karaoke is my Nemesis

My family, as a whole, is a quirky bunch. There are many traits that I have inherited that, try as I might, cannot be denied or even sufficiently hidden from the rest of society. I’ve come to accept this in most cases, such as my inability to tell a story without including way too many irrelevant details that turn a two-minute “this one time…” into a twenty-minute dissertation. I’m also not suited for quiet settings – these vocal cords are powerful. There is one quirk in particular that I wish had been some kind of genetic mutation that my infant self could have beaten the odds of, but sadly, it made its way to the idiosyncratic forefront: screwing up song lyrics. 

We’re going to blame my dad for this one. He started it all sometime back in the 70’s when he was singing along to The Beatles’ “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” and asked the person next to him, “How could he tell?”
“Tell what?” they asked.
“That she had Colitis.”
Good ole Bill thought they were singing, “The girl with Colitis goes by” instead of “The girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”

Yes, it is okay to laugh, we make fun of him for this all the time. Unfortunately, I can’t laugh too hard, because I do it too. Frequently, and unapologetically. I’m under the impression that if I interpret the words a certain way, that is how they should be, and no lyrics website will tell me otherwise.
Below are a few of my most notable creations, and I will continue to sing them loud and proud.
Rihanna – “Umbrella”  

When the sun shines, we'll shine together
Told you I'll be here forever
Said I'll always be a friend
Took an oath TOUGHEN UP, Ima stick it out til the end
Rihanna is from Barbados. She has that little island accent that makes you want to punch yourself in the face, it’s just so cute (too soon?). For this reason, I gave her the benefit of the doubt and thought she was pronouncing toughen “toe-fen” and up “ope.” Since this song was such a huge hit, I was corrected quickly, but since we all know how much I like to be told what to do, I was steadfast in belting out the lyrics that I thought were “better.” Quite honestly, I think Rihanna’s more recent songs are pretty terrible anyway, so maybe she should take note of my improvements and adjust her lyrics accordingly.
Manfred Mann’s Earth Band – “Blinded by the Light”
Blinded by the light
Revved up light a deuce DOUCHE
Another runner AND A RONER in the night
If I had initially been introduced to the Bruce Springsteen version of this song, I’d be a completely different person. Not only does The Boss know how to annunciate his S sounds (sorta…), his lyrics read, “cut loose like a deuce,” which doesn’t exactly make sense either, but at least I’d be able to decipher them. Let’s not even get into what I think a “roner” is, because I have no idea. Did the Earth Band even have another hit after this? Probably not, so who am I to criticize their British ridiculousness? Those people think beans on toast is a meal, I’d rather not question their vocabulary.
Pussycat Dolls – “When I Grow Up”
When I grow up
I wanna see the world
Drive nice cars
I wanna have groupies BOOBIES
Everyone thought this when first hearing this song. It still rings true in my mind because when I was younger, I did want boobs. I’m apparently still not there… The point is, the song could totally work both ways and for a tune that’s about becoming rich in the future, it’s not so far-fetched to believe that a trip to the plastic surgeon wouldn’t make the list.
Usher – “Burn”
I know this is something I gotta do
But that don’t mean I want to
What I’m trying to say is that I love you I just ALEXIS
I feel like this is coming to an end
I know what you’re thinking. “Who did you think Alexis was, Skylar?” And to that, all I have to say is that Usher is not known for his fidelity and admitted it in “Confessions” on the same album so it’s not my place to judge which ladyfriend he’s singing to at any given time. I’m particularly bad about this one, because I just can’t seem to get it into my head that the lyrics could be anything else. As someone whose name does not appear in any song out there (except “Skylar’s Song” by Vince Neil for his daughter who had cancer; not exactly an upper), I applaud Alexis for paving the way for the rest of us to get broken up with via catchy R&B melodies.
Sugar Ray – “Every Morning”
Every morning there's a halo hangin’ from the corner
of my girlfriend's four post SPOPO’S bed
Again. What kind of name is Spopo? I wish I understood myself.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Thrust into the Real World: Month 6

This month sucked. Hard. We're not gonna talk about it.

Here's a picture to help us all forget about it:

Friday, November 9, 2012

The Nose Knows

I recently read an article about the five things women immediately notice about a man. The first three were confidence, demeanor, and dress, to which I openly responded, “Bowshit, bowshit, and bowshit.” Then I scrolled down to find that the fourth one was “hands,” and I thought, “Now we’re getting somewhere.” (The fifth one, to all of you OCD nut jobs out there, was physique. Feel better? Xanny up.)
Personality traits mean absolutely nothing to me in the first two minutes of being introduced to someone. We both know that I just want a free drink and you’re trying to be incognito in checking out my boobs, so why would I even worry my pretty little head about your behavior? This isn’t a third grade parent teacher conference.
What do I notice right off the bat? Noses. No hesitation. I can tell a whole heck of a lot about you by your shnoz, deducing much about your character strictly based on the placement of your nostrils. My friends will ask me my opinion of a guy based on his clothes, but it is in the man-snout that I can really determine if I approve. Let me break it down for you right quick:
Pointy-beaky – You’re a fun guy when you want to be, but only when you want to be. In other words, you are uptight and would have rather stayed in to study for the LSAT or catch up on last week’s Criminal Minds but your friends dragged you to the bar. I can already tell that after two more Michelob Ultra’s you’re going to become extremely douchey and probably try to criticize my outfit in an attempt to vilify my confidence and get me to go home with you, but tough cookies T.J. Detweiler; this isn’t recess and I’m nowhere near stupid enough to play those games. All signs point to you being an asshole, and by “signs” I mean your NOSE.
Lil Christmas Bulb – There’s a lot of personality in that round nasal ornament, and I like it. You don’t think you’re very attractive, and I can’t tell if I find you attractive because of your adorable bashfulness, or because you really are just good-looking. Whatever the case may be, you’re intelligent but shy, which is fun in the moment but if I can’t break you after fifteen minutes (I’m patient if a cute boy is at stake, and only then), peace out girl scout. You have the charm a-brewin’ at the tip of your beak, but if you don’t know what to do with it then you might as well be Voldemort.  
Somewhat Whoville – You are silly and fun and the life of the party, which is so great when we’re all in a group having a blasty blast for one night. But you’re like this all the time. ALL THE TIME. How much coke does one have to do to keep this up? I am intrigued by your genuine friendliness and effortless wisecracks, but I have a sneaking suspicion you’re 27 years old living off of your dad’s paycheck and that you see absolutely nothing wrong with it. If that flag was any redder we’d have to slip it a Midol. Welcome, welcome fahoo ramus / Welcome, welcome get a job-mus.   
Manly & Prominent – Gets me every time. You are my weakness, and the Grecian presence in the middle of your face has swooned me into believing anything you say and doing anything you want me to do. There’s something about a big honker that says, “I have my life together” and “I’ll take you out to dinner, wherever you want, yes of course we can go to Sonic,” and for some reason that just makes me feel inexplicably wonderful.  
There are, of course, combo meals with all of these. I may not realize a Prominent Beaky dude is as big of a jerk as he is until the second date when he asks what my dad does for a living in an effort to determine our financial compatibility (this has actually happened). A Whoville Bulb, while extremely holiday-spirited, is just too big of an emotional basket case for me to handle. In all honesty, I won’t be truly happy until Justin Timberlake is mine, so while I work out the logistics of ruining a new marriage, feel free to reread the above analyses and apply them to your next social interaction. Who knew noses could be such a relationship time-saver? You’re welcome.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Vote or Die

It’s Election Day.
This used to mean exercising your rights and making your voice heard at the polls.
Now, it means sitting at your computer and ranting about your well-rounded, fully-informed opinions via Facebook. And probably not voting but definitely letting everyone know that “If so-and-so wins, I’m moving to Canada.”
I don’t post my political beliefs on Facebook for two reasons:
#1 I don’t believe it’s my place to shove my views down everyone’s throats.
#2 That’s what my blog is for. Teehee.
I would like to take this time to have a one-sided discussion with some of the Facebook statuses appearing on my newsfeed, because I figure if someone can disparage the issues that I believe to be most important to this country, I should do the same to their ego. Vote Skylar 2012.
“Well Obama...It's been fun. Oh wait...No it hasn't.”
You are a frat star who wears $200 sunglasses and went to a private Catholic high school; I really doubt that any of Obama’s policies over the last four years have affected you all that dramatically.
“Cliché something or another about how you should vote! But, really, you should!”
This is completely unrelated to the election, but I really hate when people think posting statuses like this is funny. It’s not. It’s not ever funny. Next time, don’t. I appreciate your unbiased approach though.
Super excited to vote for the 1st time! I just wish George Bush was on the ballot!”
You should be very embarrassed and might consider waiting another four years. Also, I'm pretty sure you only feel this way because your boyfriend votes Republican.
Here's to endless war and warrantless wiretapping and the destruction of individual rights.”
Very subtle. Granted, this isn’t entirely accurate in terms Romney’s true goals for the presidency, but at least you got the gist of it and subsequently started a Facebook status argument. Those are my crack.
“I'm predicting Obama will take an early lead tomorrow... Until all the Republicans get off work. #RomneyRyan2012
This was clever the first time I saw it. Then everyone started slapping it up on the interweb as if their cunning ass came up with it all by themselves. Then I got hostile, because I hate copycats.
“I’m voting for Regina George, because she got hit by a bus.”
“I’m voting for Cady Heron, because she pushed her.”
Mean Girls quotes are overdone, but your timing on this was excellent. Touché.
Whether you’re an elephant or a donkey, or one of the other political positions that sorryI’mnotsorry will probably never win an election, get out there and do your thing. If you’re not informed about the issues, that’s why God invented Google. If you’re actively choosing not to exercise your right, it’s safe to assume that your founding fathers are not Washington, Jefferson, and Franklin, but Mike D, MCA, and Ad-Rock…and that you won’t understand that joke for at least another three days.  USA! USA! USA!