Monthly Archives: November 2010


As you know, if you have been following along at all, is that I have a passion for music. Although I have this great love affair with music, I sometimes mishear or misremember the lyrics … which brings me to misheard lyrics – some lyrics I’ve been singing wrong for 20-25 years, maybe longer. That is crazy!

I figure them out sometimes in the car. Maybe as I age, I become more attuned or more sensitive to the words, or maybe I just pay more attention. Who knows for sure. It also happens when someone sings a song on TV and they annunciate the words differently.
Here are some prime examples of my mishearing … George Harrison’s My Sweet Lord. You know the one. “My sweet lord (hallelujah) Hmm, my lord.” I hear, “My love, oh sweet love” … not only the wrong lyrics, but the wrong song title. Not sure for how many years I was getting that one wrong. Wow, I’m a dolt. I just heard this properly for the first time in the car the other night. What the hell? The song has been around for so long. Huh! I’m sure my ears are changing (and it helps that the title scrolls across the consol). It’s great to finally figure out lyrics, but as was the case with Bon Jovi, I felt like an idiot. The song You Give Love a Bad Bame. I thought it was “Whoa oh your love is gone.” That makes sense in the song to me. But actually, it’s “oh, you’re a loaded gun. I’ve been singing that wrong since 1986. Holy shit! Heard it correctly on American Idol. Not that I watch that (ooooooh that Simon so Handsome). I just tuned into watch that one particular song (yeah right, ha ha). The list goes on. How about Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Deep Blue Something? The actual lyric is “And I said what about Breakfast at Tiffany’s? She said I think I remember the film”. Me, I thought it was “I said what about breakfast at Tiffany’s she said I, think I, remember what it felt like”. Crazy! It doesn’t even fit with the music beats i had to sing it fast to even fit. It was like I had an epiphany when I figure that one out. So many songs like that. You know the chorus, but the rest is humming or made up words that sound like they fit. Or how about Peter Gabriel’s Games Without Frontier. The first lyrics “she so Happier.” or at least this is what I thought, and I couldn’t have been any farther away from the actual lyrics. It actually is “Jeux sans frontieres.” Freakin French! (Download it, give it a listen). Are my ears that bad?. Another prime example is Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard. I still have no clue what the actual lyrics are. I do know it’s all about the sex (like most great rock music). So here we go. Here is what I hear and try to sing:
Livin’ like a bum and I couldn’t get on
Livin’ like a lover with a red eye phone.
Livin’ like a champ, like a video vam
(By the way, what the hell is a video vam?)
Demolition woman can I be your man
Raz-a-little-daz a little cash a little light
Television lover baby do all night
Some time anytime sugar me sweet
Little miss evil said sugar me … yeah

OK, some of that doesn’t make sense. I will look up the correct lyrics. Man, I love the inter-webs! Goolge can find anything! Here are the real lyrics:
Love is like a bomb, baby, c’mon get it on
Livin’ like a lover with a radar phone
Lookin’ like a tramp, like a video vamp
Demolition woman, can I be your man?
Razzle ‘n’ a dazzle ‘n’ a flash a little light
Television lover, baby, go all night
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet
Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah

Well there you have it, I’m not too far off. I know, you’re gonna get the song and check it against my lyrics. Well have fun. Sometimes I sing the lyrics wrong on purpose and then I actually convince myself that the ones I sing are correct. Examples are the Sexy Bitch song by David Guetta ft. Akon, such a degrading song. What a way to talk about women. Chorus: Damn, you’s a sexy bitch, sexy bitch! (repeat over and over ‘cause he ran out of lyrics.)

For some reason, I always sing “Damn, who’s a crazy bitch? Crazy bitch.” and I actually tricked my mind into thinking that those are the correct lyrics and the name of the song. I was asking wifey the other day who sings it so I could get it for a ring tune, and she’s like “ it’s not crazy bitch, it’s sexy bitch.” Oh well. No matter, ‘cause if you live with them long enough, even the sexiest ones turn into the craziest ones (lol). Or how about in the song Brown Eyed Girl (Van Morrison), after the base solo … “So hard to find my way, now that I’m on my way. I saw you just the other day, my how your breasts have grown.” Now, we all know that breasts are not there, but they should be … I guess I got boobs on the brains, but it fits in the song. I think I made the song better.

It doesn’t matter if you mishear the lyrics and sing the wrong ones, music should be enjoyed and sung at high levels, even if you can’t sing and don’t know the proper lyrics. It should make you happy or sad or laugh out loud. Music is great and should be celebrated. Wow, I went all Tony Robbins on your ass. I feel positive, I feel great…) and as far as messing up the lyrics, what’s the worst that can happen? You won’t go to jail or be set in front of a firing squad. Worst case scenario, you will be publicly ridiculed or just laughed at by your spouse. Hey, I can handle that. So keep those vocal pipes well lubricated. I find beer works the best, but feel free to substitute for whichever poison you prefer.

“I wanna rock and roll all night and part of every day” … Oops! Yeah, like I would mess that one up.

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Posted by on November 18, 2010 in Uncategorized



So, BigWes joins a gym.
Can someone please explain this?
I mean, why would BigWes join a gym? He’s perfectly wonderful just the way he is. He’s in the best shape of this life … round is a shape.

But seriously, folks, what the hell is the deal with people and the gym? These muscled-out people or pretty boys going to gym and checking themselves out in the mirror. Lifting weights that are too heavy. Doing one or two reps then dropping them to the floor. BANG! And their groaning sounds like they are trying to take a dump. These idiots should stay home … lift one or two, then have a drink of their power shake, groan and lift some more, then check out their biceps in the mirror while flexing and fixing their hair, then repeating steps one and two. Drives me absolutely nuts. I watch all of this from the cardio machines. I’m a people watcher. I also watch people at the mall. Could kill hours doing this …
Me, BigWes, goes to the gym for one reason and one reason only, to stare at the women. Ha, ha. No seriously, I go for the cardio (It’s good to keep the heart in shape) and some weight lifting. Definitely liking the bump in my arms since I started going. And the bump in the mid-section is starting to get smaller. I go, do what I have to do, watch who I need to watch, and work out. I’m not there to play “mirror, mirror on the wall” or to fix my hair. So gay!
I’m not kidding about these guys. The other day, this guy walked in with the most craziest hair and I remember thinking that it looks retarded (remember, my blog, my opinion). It was kind of a faux hawk with a mullet and came to a “V” in the back and had a rat tail. Gay, gay, gay (not that there is anything wrong with that. Ha.) I was like “what the F!” So, I keep doing my thing and this guy’s lifting weights, groaning, checking himself out and playing with his hair. My gawd, I almost went over and punched him for being and looking so stupid. Really, you’re already looking at yourself in the mirror, so why can’t you spot the lack of style?!?!? Sorry, I mean the lack of good style. If you’re going to do the “pretty boy” routine, you have to be a pretty boy. Stay home!!!
Or maybe it’s just me with the issues. In fact, I’m sure it is. No one else seems to have issues with these guys … of course, everyone else is staring only at themselves while I’m looking at them. How can you not look at them? They’re groaning, one louder than the next, in a competition to see who will get the most attention from onlookers. Well, I guess they’re all winners, cause I look at every single one of them … of course, I’m laughing at them as I do that, but they don’t need to know that (their arm bumps are bigger than mine … for now).
“Uuuurrrrgggggg”!!! (my best attempt at spelling a groan)

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Posted by on November 4, 2010 in Uncategorized