Real Men/Women of Genius #57

[Fiends, roamins, cross-countrymen, lend me your eyeballs. Today’s “offering”—yo, I usually get the feelin’ I’m trying to “sacrifice (stuff like this) to the angry gods,” so that they’ll redirect their tornadoes somewhere else—was actually first suggested by Joe Judd, who, if I understand anything at all, MAY right now be running Hardrock. Anyway, Joe’ll see this whenever the wolves have left his door and he has, once again, a little more time to unlax. And BTW? Thanks, Joe. You’re a pal.]

Ingelhook Wineries present…

REAL WOMEN OF GENIUS

{Real gals of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we raise our glass to you, Miss Earphones-Wearing Runner Who Has No Clue What She’s Listening To.

{Miss haaaaaaaas-en’t got-a-clue whaaaat-the-heck she iiiiis lis-ten-ing toooo!}

Of course it’s nice to see you out here with the rest of us, slogging boucou obsquattamatillion endless laps around this pond for the next 24-to-48 entire hours; but did you also feel obligated to SING?

{“I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I jus’ lov-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-e tooo sing-a-long-with thissssssssssss song!”}

“You cooked Mick Hall not long”? “You cooked Mick Hall not long”? Or is it: “U-mistook-my-Haul lite wrong”? Really?? We appreciate how intently you’re listening to your iPod and entertaining us by loudly repeating whatever you hear, of course; but did you even know the words to AC/DC’s endlessly, ENDLESSLY repeated chorus in the first place?

{Weeeeeeeee al-ways thought it was “shook me”!}

“I want a no, have ewe Eva peed Lorraine, coming down from Sunny D?” Please. Even we could tell Creedence Clearwater Revival wasn’t singing THAT back in the day, and we were all stoned out of our heads.

{Mayyyyyyyyyyyy-beee you WERE borrrrrrn in a buy, you?}

We run like crazy to get ahead of you, of course, but on our very next lap? There you are again! Singing, at the top of your–rather formidable–young lungs, something we’re pretty sure we’ve never heard before, and takin’ a pretty good guess you’re not hearing it either.

{Yoooooooou might-just-have the worrrrrrrrrrrrds wronnnnng?}

So ease your cork out gently from that “pretty cool” bottle of White Zinfandel, O Madonna of the Chorus, because–even though you appear to be ADHD–we all pretty well know that what you’re really doing is marching to the beat of a different–a very, very different–drummer.

{Miss Ear-phones-Wear-ing-Run-ner Who Has Noooo Clue What-ev-ver She’s Lis-ten-iiiing To!}

White Zinfandel yuppie wine: we don’t drink it ourselves; we’d rather guzzle beer.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
http://www.contemporaryinsanity.org/humor/bud-light-real-men-of-genius.html
And wouldn’t you know, today’s not about beer. Today is all about taking your pleasure “on the rocks.” Like, whine. Whine on the Hardrock(s).

Good luck to everyone “out there” now… oh, probably somewhere lookin’ up–high up–their third mountain.