Big Ugly Man Doll

SOBUMD and the HTR just left for church.  Before those of you who know us well hurt your jaws as they bounce on your respective desks, it’s a Unitarian service.  Now, in the old days when SOBUMD would take some or all of the kids to the local Catholic mass, as they walked out I’d yell, “Say Hi to God for me!”  Today, as they were leaving, I thought about it a moment and yelled, “Ask a question for me!” 

“What’s the question?” came the reply.  “Doesn’t much matter, does it?” I said.

Ah, Unitarian jokes, gotta love ’em.  But this isn’t about that.  This is an advent countdown of Christmas and other miscellaneous holiday songs that really make me throw up in my mouth a little, that nasty scratchy taste in your throat when you hear them – you know the kind I mean.  Those.

Today’s exercise in aural holiday torture comes to us compliments of the pop mop-top we love to hate, Justin Bieber.  Someone seems to have told this barely pubescent punk-wannabe to record a Christmas tune.  I can just imagine the conversation:  “Justin, dude, my man, we need some more cash.  What say you do a Christmas carol?  That’s money, baby!”

JB:  “OK.  But what should I write it about?”

Record Company:  “I dunno dude, what about getting laid?  That’s always a hit!”

It’s the most beautiful time of the year
Lights fill the streets spreading so much cheer
I should be playing in the winter snow
But I’mma be under the mistletoe

The first verse is also the last one with a complete internal rhyme, since, ya know, that’s hard, and no one cares ’cause they’re just looking at the video anyway, which features Santa’s leather jacket.  You can tell it’s Santa’s since (A) it doen’t fit Justin, and (B) snow does not actually accumulate nor even fall on the jacket, regardless of the fact that it’s “snowing” in the video. 

Go ahead.  Take your insulin shot and then click to see for yourself!  A tribute to Holiday Hey Hey by a boy under the age of consent in most states.

Tags: Children // 2 Comments »

It’s Friday, and answer time doesn’t wait just because it’s Black Friday!  I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving, for those of you who celebrated such yesterday, and that everyone had a wonderful day yesterday, for those of you who don’t. 

For those of you who have commented with questions from previous ManFAQs, thank you. I’m adding yours to the list of questions women have asked about men over the years, and I will answer them all in turn – to continue to demystify the more malodorous gender for those of the gentler.  Actual questions, posed by real women, and answered by a REAL man. What could go wrong?

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Question:   Is the way to his heart really through his stomach?  Does his belly really do as much of his thinking as his tonker?

Answer:    Ooooh yes.  One of Robert Heinlein’s characters once said something like “Study how to please a man for years, make a science of it, and as soon as I find a good one he rolls over for the first pretty face who can cook.”   And she wasn’t too far wrong – most of us, much as I hate to admit it, do need to get out of bed eventually. 

Even the immortal (well, he’s working on it) Jeff Foxworthy has noticed this; he once boiled down all men’s deep basic needs to two things: “I want a beer, and I want to see something nekkid.”  Yep.   

In the presence of food, when we’re hungry, we’re as much slaves to our guts as to our gonads.  “Why did you eat that?” is often answered with something very much like “It was there.”  If it’s not VERY clearly labeled, such as “this is for the party tomorrow with your mother and if you eat a slice of it before the party I will cut off your hand and feed it to the dog,” he probably thinks it’s fair game.  We expend a LOT of energy during the day – stop laughing, this is a true statement.  Think about it:  (1) thinking requires brainpower.  (2) brainpower uses up almost as many calories as exercise.  (3) men think ALL THE TIME.  (Granted, they’re thinking about Hey Hey, but they’re very diligent about thinking about it all the time.)  (4) ergo, we’re always hungry, from using up all that energy thinking about what you look like with your clothes off. 

And then there’s the whole bit about sensous eating, which is usually done with your mouth.  There’s a reason we call it Food Porn, but that’s probably another post. 

So yes, a degree from the Culinary Institute is as or more likely to net you a husband as one from the Courtesan College in Las Vegas. 

And for the guys – remember, Contemplate Before You Masticate!  Should you eat that?  Maybe you’d better check!  After all, you don’t want to be this guy:

A replacement wedding cake topper - because something "mysteriously happened" to the original.

  

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Now you know. Please, feel free to comment! Also, forward any questions you’d like answered to BUMD – at – biguglymandoll.com!

Tags: Children // 2 Comments »

Yesterday we commented a bit about Vodka, and how it’s possible to drink both too much and not nearly enough of it.  Today, before we get to the next holiday song that makes me crazy, I would like to include a note about Limoncello.  Really, really good, homemade Limoncello that takes 5 or more months to create. 

It’s a velvet hammer.  The first one won’t hit you until you’ve finished the second one.  Don’t have a third; they’ll just keep hitting you all evening long. 

But this isn’t about that.  This is an advent countdown of Christmas and other miscellaneous holiday songs that really make me throw up in my mouth a little, that nasty scratchy taste in your throat when you hear them – you know the kind I mean.  Those. 

Number 24, just because I can’t wait to complain about it, is the Chipmunk Song.  “Alvin!”  They squeek in a range that causes physical pain.  “Please Christmas don’t be late.”  Late would be a wonderful way to describe how I’d like to hear it, as in “the late Big Ugly Man Doll couldn’t hear the song, on account of being deceased.”   Someone get that rodent a Hula hoop and get this dreck off my radio. 

In case you’re just a glutton for aural punishment, here it is:

I’m going back for another Limoncello before you play it, though.

Tags: Children // 1 Comment »

Have you ever noticed that Vodka is one of the most annoying drinks out there?  It is possible, with Vodka, to have consumed both too much Vodka and not nearly enough Vodka, at the same time.  Irritating.

But this isn’t about that.  This is an advent countdown of Christmas and other miscellaneous holiday songs that really make me throw up in my mouth a little, that nasty scratchy taste in your throat when you hear them – you know the kind I mean.  Those.  And I know there will be people commenting “BUMD, you know the Advent really starts on the 4th Sunday before Christmas, so you’re missing the first few days – don’t you remember your Cataclysm?”  These are the same killjoys who insisted that “you know the Millenium is really next year” on 31 December 1999, while the rest of us were partying like it was, well, you know.  So I’m missing a few days.  My kids’ advent calendars, the kind with the shitty chocolate?  They agree with me.  Take it up with Target, I’m blogging over here.

The first song, which I suppose is really the 25th song, I’ve mentioned during other holiday seasons – SOBUMD and I refer to it as The Holiday Date Rape Song, Frank Loesser’s 1936 classic “Baby It’s Cold Outside.”  Don’t get me wrong, sure, Loesser was a musical genius.  At the time, he was a lyrical genius as well.   Seventy five years later, a lot of Loesser’s lyrics not only don’t stand the test of time, but in fact would get him thrown out of the more PC houses.   He marked the duet parts as “mouse” and “wolf” on the printed score; while I’m all in favor of Hey Hey, you’re not allowed to spike their drinks anymore, fellas.  Besides, sometimes it’s a bad idea – I re-wrote some updated lyrics a while ago.

In fairness, we’ll end with the Margaret Whiting /Johnny Mercer version, which might have been socially acceptable in 1949 when it came out.

Great music.  Can we retire the lyrics on this one?

OK.  That’s a good start.  I think I need some more Vodka now.

Tags: Children // 1 Comment »

Tags: Children // 1 Comment »