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i sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
by mg at 11:16 AM on April 23, 2002
Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I started singing a little song to myself.
I've never been the kind of person to make up little songs. I have friends who can make up songs, instantly, about any subject. Like the "Waking Up" song, or the "Making a Sandwich" song, or "I'm stinking Drunk Tonight" song.
I always admired that ability, but could never quite master it myself. Probably because I could never quite master it myself.
I am, however, quite the master of making up silly little stories on the spot. There is a story my family tells me about one night when she was babysitting me. I was about 2-3 years old, so that would have made it 1917. It was late at night and she was trying to get to sleep. I was in the same room, in my crib, hanging with my stuffed animals. I'd gathered them around and was telling them stories. Even then I needed an audience. My teddy bears stared at me with the cold unfeeling eyes I imagine most of you have while staring at your monitors right now.
I don't remember what I was saying, or really what I am ever saying. My aunt says to her it was just babbling. Apparently I did this all the time. I still do. Babble babble babble. On this particular occasion my aunt repeatedly told me to shut my godamn mouth, until she finally got so frustrated she got out of bed and shook my like a Swedish au pair.
Anyway, the point was, I tell stories, I don't sing. But, for some strange reason I started singing last night. I started making up a little song. And the song went a little something like this:
I hate my life. I'm in a rut. I need to figure out a way to get out of this rut. Find a job and find a girl. Or else I'll starve and die. Or else I'll starve and die.
The song was sung to the tune of nothing. But, typing it now the tune in my head was Three Blind Mice. Which, for some reason, is strangely apropos.
So, I've got this rut problem. Still trying to figure it out. Maybe I should look into song writing. Does anyone want to be a Rodgers to my Hammerstein?
comments (10)
If you'd settle for someone being the Tim Rice to your Elton John, then I'm there man!
by Eviltom at April 23, 2002 8:32 PM
maybe you just need your diaper changed. or your depends. whichever.
by bazima at April 23, 2002 8:41 PM
Well, if no one wants to be the Lennon to my McCartney, I guess I'll have to settle for someone coming over and wiping my ass.
by mg at April 23, 2002 9:37 PM
What, no takers for Tim Rice to your Elton John? Ok, here's my last offer... I'll be the Andrew Ridgeley to your George Michael. Someone sing "Careless Whisper" to me...
by Eviltom at April 23, 2002 9:53 PM
Andrew Ridgeley? That's even queerer than I would ever go.
by mg at April 23, 2002 11:14 PM
I'll be your Elton John.... *insert comments about gay sex here*
by snaggle at April 24, 2002 11:37 PM
I often sing songs about hating my life as well as other things when I'm stoned. But they usaully go to upbeat 50's show tune sounds.
by Jerry at April 22, 2004 2:48 PM
I just realized that break is in 10 minutes and I have no money for lunch. I'm very disapointed. : (
by Jerry at April 22, 2004 2:52 PM
What a difference two years make.
by mg at April 23, 2004 2:41 PM
No kidding hunny. But I am worried that Jerry found this site by searching for "I hate my life."
by Linz at April 23, 2004 2:54 PM