Saturday 26 February 2011

They Shoot Lyrics, Don't They?

We got two sets of keys to our new house yesterday. When we arrived there, using Other Half's keys, it wasn't clean. The letting agency apologised, sent a cleaner around and a giftbasket. Other Half and I were reasonably appeased by this sacrificial offering, and decided not to Hulk out about it. Anyone can make a mistake. However, when the taxi dropped me off at the new flat this morning, alone, struggling with a massive rucksack that weighs about twice as much as I do, along with several heavy bags full of books and my guitar, I was understandably horrified to find that my new set of 'exterior door' keys did not work. I tried them a couple of times, but they wouldn't even fit in the locks. I stood there for a few minutes, bewildered and straining under the weight of my worldly belongings. I'd just used all my change to pay the taxi. I was running out of phone battery. I was over a mile away from our current house. My joints were already beginning to hurt. In the gentle mid-morning sun, on the steps, with the steady soothing hum of traffic passing by, I began, very quietly, to have a complete meltdown. Luckily, the lady who lives in the flat underneath was home and answered my desperate buzzer presses and was very kind about it. Turns out only my 'indoor door' keys work. Therefore, I only need to be able to break in to the stairwell and all systems are go. Perhaps it's some kind of test, to see if I was resourceful enough to be able to live there. If they were looking for a new Jack Bauer, I'm afraid I'm a disappointment. I can't even watch 24 because it makes me too nervous, never mind live it.

While unpacking, once I had eventually managed to get into the new flat, I spent some quality time dancing like a drunken badger attacking a hedge and singing tunelessly to my ipod playlist. The acoustics in the new flat are great. I tried a rousing rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody, trying to emulate Janette FM and was pleasantly surprised. When Rihanna began playing, I was reminded of a time only a few weeks previously when I was listening to her song 'Only Girl In the World'.

Perhaps you've also experienced this feeling. A modern pop song on the radio blows you away with its catchy melody and foot-tapping rhythm. You find yourself singing along heartily only to realise half-way in that you are repeating ridiculous sentences. Case in point - the aforementioned 'Only Girl In The World' song begins with the lyrics "I want you to love me, like I'm a hot pie."  Really, Rihanna? Because the way I love a hot pie involves sharp cutlery, perhaps with an accompaniment of baked beans or mashed potatoes and I'm not sure that's really what you meant. Even worse, she doesn't even go on to specify the kind of hot pie. Is it apple? Mississippi mud? Steak and ale? Details and continuity are important, Rihanna. They make a good song great. You wouldn't catch Simon and Garfunkel making this kind of rookie mistake.

I told Other Half about this and she informed me, rolling her eyes as usual, that it's actually "hot ride", not "hot pie". This makes even less sense. Is Rihanna a rollercoaster? Does she want people to experience nauseous, andrenaline-fuelled terror while listening to her songs? Does she consider herself better than, say, Oblivion, or that Space Mountain one? These are questions that trouble my mind greatly. I think I preferred it when she was a pie.

My family often provide me with much misquoted lyrical entertainment during our weekly catch up phone calls. A man at my dad's workplace walked around singing "King Justice" for weeks until my dad finally took him aside and explained that MC Hammer was actually singing "Can't Touch This". I believe it was an uncomfortable moment for both. I personally would have tried to alleviate the awkwardness by Hammerdancing. I find this works as a momentary distraction from most social faux pas, such as cannibalism chats, embarrassing verbal mishaps and explaining in great detail to people you've just met that spiders are constantly trying to assassinate you.

In summary, always listen closely, check your keys carefully, and when in doubt, Hammerdance.

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