Most Embarrassing Music

A discussion was started at work, “What is the most embarrassing musical person/group you were into?”

There was the usual admittance by my coworkers of New Kids On The Block, Tiffany, Milli Vanilli, etc.  Then an argument broke out because one person stated they were embarrassed about having really liked Kenny Rogers and another girl apparently was still into Kenny.  Who knew people could become so enraged about the Gambler?

That led to another debate about Disco Duck, which got me great ridicule for knowing that it was sung by Rick Dees (national DJ with “Weekly Top 40” show).  I have quickly learned my coworkers don’t appreciate an impressive knowledge of useless trivia.  That is all I’m really good for, so I might have to quit soon.

The music I am most embarrassed about did not raise any eyebrows amongst these rubes.  They apparently had not even heard of most of them.  Most of the music I like is not mainstream, it is really not mainstream here in Mississippi, so it is only understandable.

Here is my most embarrassing musical choices.

Huey Lewis and The News:  It was not so much that I am embarrassed about liking them, it is that I was such a devoted fan, I openly mocked the cooler kids at summer camp listening to RUN DMC and proclaimed that Huey Lewis would some day rule the universe.  I loved “I Want A New Drug”, but was really too uncool to realize it was about illegal drugs.  I kind of assumed it was about Tylenol or something like that.

The Dead Milkmen:  Once again, not so much they are bad, just that I was REALLY into them.  I would only listen to the Dead Milkmen and was constantly searching out new albums.  If you don’t think it is something to be embarrassed about, Follow this Link to listen to them.  “Punk Rock Girl” is actually their biggest hit, but you really need to hear “takin’ retards to the zoo” to appreciate my favorite tune.  Picture a chubby, punk kid in a beat up VW Rabbit rocking out to this at full blast. 

The Hansons:  This one should need absolutely NO explanation as to why I am embarrassed, but I will offer one anyhow.  I was the guy who first saw the video and thought, “That chick is hot!” Come on now, don’t make me out to be the only one...some of you other guys need to back me up here.  That middle brother would be a pretty hot chick.  It gets worse since I had the single for “Mmm-Bop”.  Not the entire album, but I did have “Mmm-Bop”.  I still want to have sex with that middle Hanson kid...he is so pretty I don’t think it makes me any less Hetero.  Right?

Chumbawamba:  I know you may not remember them, but it was the song, “I get knocked down, but I get up again, They’re never gonna keep me down...” That song is DAMN catchy.  My friends still make fun of me for that purchase.  It is multiplied many times because it was actually the first actual CD I ever bought.  “Tubthumper” was the name of the album.  Yes, a quick google search, will reveal it came out in 1998.  I was really behind in the technology realm.  I have since made up for it with a vengeance.  My friends think it is because I am still trying to make up for this one purchase.  I hate those guys.

Jimmy’s Chicken Shack::  I am glad you have never heard of this Baltimore band.  I was on my very first travel nurse job in Baltimore and was bombarded with their music.  I guess the mixture of being so far from home and alone for the first time, weakened my taste in music.  Their album, “Pushing the Salmonella Envelope” was looked down upon so badly by my friends that we would combine it with the Chumbawamba album and pass it back and forth as a Birthday present for several years.  I am not sure who last received it.

What about you?  Any music you are now embarrassed to have danced around in front of the mirror, in your underwear, singing into a hair brush?


Violent Child Abuse

I overheard this conversation today at the cafeteria at my hospital.


lady 1:  “My Son won’t stop grabbing my breasts.”
lady 2:  “I would kick that bastard in the balls.”
lady 1:  “He’s only two.”
lady 2:  “When I got through he would only have one… if he’s lucky.”
lady 1:  “I am NOT going to kick my two year old in his balls.”
lady 2: “Why would you kick your two year old in the balls??”
lady 1:  “You’re the one who just told me to do it!”
lady 2:  “Wait, what did you just say earlier?”
lady 1:  “I said my Son won’t stop grabbing my breasts.”
lady 2:  “Oh shit, I though you said, ‘A Son of a bitch won’t stop grabbing my breasts.  I thought some perv at work was copping a feel.”
lady 1:  “How the hell did you hear Son of a bitch?”
lady 2:  “I don’t know, you mumbled or something.”
lady 1:  “I did not mumble.  I thought you had told me to kick my son in the nuts.  I was getting really worried about YOUR kids.”
lady 2:  “My kid is twenty five, if he grabbed my breasts I WOULD kick him in the nuts.”
lady 1: “Does a two year old even have nuts?”

I am really worried for today’s youth.

An important note:  Killer Rants in NO WAY supports the kicking of nuts, at any age.

Brush With The Law

As requested by Road Chick, more info on my only, admitted, arrest.

To fully appreciate the incident some background information should be given. 

In small, out of the way, Holly Springs, Mississippi, there is a bizarre shrine to Elvis.  It is called Graceland Too.  It is owned and operated by a hard core Elvis impersonator named Paul Macleod who, after seeing Elvis on TV long, long ago, dedicated his life to him; he was an impersonator even when Elvis was still alive.  It is also run by his son, Elvis Aaron Presley Macleod. 

For over forty years Paul and Elvis have collected normal memorabilia as well as a lot of weird shit.  They supposedly have every TV, Radio, or magazine event about or with Elvis copied.  They have a room full of really old TVs and a lot of beat up VCRs, so it could be feasible. 

Probably the best and most bizarre feature is their hours of operation.  The sign says 9 to 5, Monday-Saturday, but it is widely known that they are really open 24 hours a day.  You knock, they get up and give the five dollar tour.  Considering the University of Mississippi is only about an hours drunken drive away, it is a must visit for any self respecting Ole Miss student; especially when drunk, in a large group and around 4am.  This is the only time I had ever been. 

If you go three times you become a “Life Time Member” and get in for free after that.  You got a membership card and everything.  I quickly became a lifetime member. 

Now, on with the story.

After I graduated from Ole Miss with my BA in Sociology I quickly capitalized on my new degree and got a job waiting tables three hours away in the Bustling metropolis of Jackson, MS.  I would often regale my fellow restaurant workers with grand stories of Oxford, which always included a drunken trip to Graceland Too.  Everyone always loved these stories, especially the colorful descriptions of the owner, Paul, with his loose dentures and occasionally gaping bath robe, as well as, his Son, Elvis, who also appeared a few sandwiches short of a picnic.  He would often pull out knives or other weapons to show off during the tour.

Finally one night after closing down the restaurant a group of my fellow restaurateurs decided to grab a cooler of beer and make our way up to the sleepy town of Holly Springs to visit Graceland Too. 

Now, a SUV full of people drinking beer and a three hour drive along dark, country roads may not sound like a good idea, and that would be correct. 

After a long booze filled three hours we pulled up at Graceland Too, piled out and knocked on the door.  It was about three am.  I had been here many times even later than this and usually after the first knock, the door was opened and the freak show would begin without hesitation.  This time, no answer.

We kept banging on the door, but no one would answer.  I was quickly looking like a fool.  We dejectedly turned to go back to the truck and along the way one of the guys kicked this small (probably the size of a license plate on a metal stick) sign that was hand painted with “Graceland Too”.  After he kicked it, it fell out of the ground so he picked it up and took it into the truck with him.  We all piled in and headed back out of town. 

After a few minutes we saw three police cars with their lights going blow past us in the opposite direction.  One quickly turned around and pulled behind us.  I knew we were in trouble. 

In an attempt to prevent him seeing the car load of drunken idiots, I got out of the drivers seat and went back to his cruiser.  He was on the radio hearing a description for a black SUV that had just stolen a sign from Graceland Too.  As soon as he looked at me I said, “It was us.” I was hoping he would offer leniency for my honesty.

He told me to follow him.  We went back to Graceland Too where the owner, Paul, and his strange Son, Elvis, were standing in the yard with police.  I got out alone with the sign and immediately began apologizing.  Elvis did all the talking for the family. 

Even though thousands of Ole Miss students come through there every year, he remembered me, my name, my major, and that I had graduated.  It had probably been three years since I had last been here.  This guy was some sort of idiot savant or something.  They wanted no part of my apology.  He just kept saying if he had charged his video camera, we would have been caught on film.  Finally I blurted back, “Dude, I already confessed.  You don’t need any damn video evidence.” This did not help my case.  He told the cops they wanted to press charges for Grand Larceny.  They claimed the sign was a one of a kind relic and was worth a lot of money. 

My hopes were quickly sinking.  By now all the police but one had left.  He looked disappointed about all the work, but told us to follow him non the less.  We arrived at the small police station and went inside.  The cop quickly told us that it would be a few minutes before Elvis arrived, he was walking, and that we should be warned that he is pretty crazy, so we might be in for a long night. 

Once Elvis arrived the cop convinced Elvis to have a private one-on-one with me to see if I could talk him out of pressing charges.  Me and one of the other guys went into the police garage with Elvis.  We apologized and explained the long drive and lack of door opening.  The entire time it was obvious nothing was going to change Elvis mind.  He was pissed.  He told us, “If I had my way, I would just take all of you outside and beat the shit out of everyone of you.” Now, Elvis was the same age as us, and a pretty big guy, but his main advantage was the ever looming craziness in his eyes.

The best I managed was to convince him to press charges on just me, since I was the lifetime member and should have better represent my standing.  He agreed.  When asked the value of the “very expensive, hand-made sign” he stated it was about $50.  I really doubted it was worth that much.

We reentered the police station and he told the lone police officer he wanted to press full charges on me.  The cop told him it would be taken care of and that he should go on home, he would let him know about the court date.  As soon as he left the cop started asking the tough questions, “Why would a bunch of people from Jackson drive all the way up here to see two crazy guys in a run down house?” We had no good answer to these tough questions.  He just laughed.

Finally he said I had two options.  I could sit in the jail for two nights until Monday and go before a judge, who would probably give me a fine.  He recommended that one.  OR, I could call a bail bondsman and bond out.  I asked how much it would cost to bond out and he said fifty bucks.  I opted for the bonding out.  I did not have any intention of spending a couple of nights in the Holly Springs pokey.  He called the bondsman and continued to make fun of us. 

I asked him if I could get a copy of the mug shot after he took it, but he said he wasn’t going to take one.  I asked him if my friends could take a picture of me in a jail cell, but he declined saying there was already a drunk guy in there.  I then asked if they could take a picture of me handcuffed or in the back of a police car, he said no.  Finally the best we could get was a picture of him kicking me in the ass while I was leaning over the top of the police car.  ( I really need to dig up that pic)

After we all went back inside, it was about five am, he suddenly said, well you guys could just go ahead and plead guilty, pay the fine and be done with the entire thing.  WHAT!  We can avoid coming back and seeing a judge.  “Wait, how much is the fine?” The cop said, “$250”.  I couldn’t believe it.  All this could be over for $250.  I made everyone in our group give me fifty bucks, luckily we were all waiters fresh from work, and paid for my freedom.  The cop took the money, shook my hand and said we were free to go. 

We drove all the way back to Jackson that night, stopped for breakfast at the Waffle House, and then went to bed. 

I would really never think anything of the incident until graduating from nursing school.  When you apply for a nursing license you have to list every misdemeanor or felony charge you have ever had.  Failure to do so will result in immediate loss of your license and they would supposedly never give it back.  I wanted to make sure I got it right.  I called Holly Springs and explained that I had been arrested three years earlier, but did not know what the official charge was.  I gave the secretary my name and the dates, but she said they had no record of any arrest for me.  She asked if I wanted to initiate an investigation. 

I said no.  I did not want to now get a charge for bribery.  I am guessing he just pocketed the money and went to his local Waffle House and forgot about the whole thing.  I can appreciate his corruption. 

Seven Random Things You Didn’t Want To Know

I was tagged by Stella Divine at her place.  I don’t normally participate in Memes.  Not because I am too good for them, I just don’t like to encourage chain letters of any type.  BUT, with the pressure of posting every day I have become desperate for posting fodder. 

It’s either participate in this or talk about the odd growth on my taint; complete with pictures and diagrams.  Maybe tomorrow.

As usual, this Meme has rules:

Here They Are
* Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.  (Okay, easy enough)
* Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.  (See Below)
* Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.  (I absolutely refuse to do this step.)
* Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.  (See Above)

Seven Random Things You Didn’t Want to Know About Killer

1.  I’m probably the highest paid homeless person you know.

2.  I am addicted to Carmex lip balm.  I am only a few days away from heating it up in a little spoon and injecting it directly into my veins.  It’s like heroin for my lips. It might be why I’m homeless.

3.  Tomorrow I sign my life away, effectively ending 16 years of utter freedom and irresponsibility.  No not marriage (I’m not crazy); I sign business loan papers.  I was lured into this trap with a case of Carmex.

4.  Since 1991 I have lived in nineteen different places covering seven states.  Who knows, maybe in the morning I’ll up and move to Idaho, instead of signing any legal documents.

5.  My Ipod has 6500 songs on it. It takes a lot of music to drive all over the country.

6.  I was in a band in High School called the “Screaming Mutes”, but I can’t play any musical instrument or sing.  No, none of the 6500 songs on my Ipod are from the Screaming Mutes.

7.  I was arrested in College for taking a tiny sign out of the yard of a bizarre Elvis museum.  I was never charged because we apparently bribed the cop without realizing it.  An Elvis impersonator threatened to kill me.  The Screaming Mutes never played any music, but especially no Elvis covers.

I always refuse to tag anyone, but instead leave it wide open for anyone to take this idea and run with it.  If you decide to do it, let me know in comments and I will go back and update this post to show a link to your efforts.  Thanks to Stella Divine for thinking of me.

NaBloPoMo Weekend Edition 2

All Filler No Killer

In an effort to abide by the tyrannical rules of NaBloPoMo and post every day for November, even on the damn weekends, I am posting on a Sunday.  What!?!?  Post on a Sunday, that’s crazy! 

I know!  I don’t want to do it, they are making me.  I forget the actual punishment for failing to carry out the daily posting rule, but I think it is really bad.  They might come break my knee caps, give me a Cleveland Steamer, or worse yet, shave one of Liz’s twenty six cats.

I should never have agreed to get in on this thing.  Who knows where it will lead.  First it’s posting every day in November and the next thing you know they are telling me I have to post only on even number days in December or how about three times a day in January.  Like most organized mobs, it always starts off small with innocent enough plans, but soon it will go to their heads and next thing you know everybody is walking around in expensive Italian suits and swearing loyalty to the “family”.

Well not me Jack!  I am planning to go legit.  Just a few more daily posts to make just a little more cash, and THEN no more. 

I can quit anytime I swear. 

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