There was a news story a few weeks ago about a woman who was removed from a train for speaking loudly on her cell phone for almost 16 hours in a car designated as a “quiet” car. That one individual could talk for 16 hours straight is completely beyond me. This feat of human accomplishment was previously thought impossible aside from a scenario in which Sarah Palin is asked whether Jesus would be for or against a man carrying a pink backpack. It is widely known that such a question would result in a day’s worth of scripture references, hunting advice, erroneous little league hockey information, and the eventual assertion that pink is a one way ticket to hell for men who choose to accessorize with it.

While being removed from the train by police, the woman apparently said she felt disrespected by passengers confronting her about her behavior which is why she became aggressive. I can only hope that she did indeed feel thoroughly disrespected. She deserved heaping spoonfulls of disrespect, if there was room for any on top of what I can only imagine was a lot of burger king. “R-E-S-P-E-C-T? She’s better versed in KFC.”

Then several days ago a similar event occurred where a woman was being thrown off a train for speaking on her phone in a quiet car and she began to talk about how educated she was while arguing with train employees. Someone of course recorded it on their phone, and when you watch the video, you’ll see the woman behaving like an arrogant, inconsiderate toad of a human being. It may sound excessive but I think many of us saw that video (looks like it is no longer on YouTube) and had this longing to see her punished more extensively than merely being removed from the train. In the old days this would have led to her being publicly tarred and feathered and what is going through my head is a modern version of that called “superglued and urban outfittered.” I think you get the gist of what that entails.

We probably couldn’t get away with that, but given individuals like these are on the rise in our society and that the voodoo dolls I create with their pictures and do very, very bad things to seem to be ineffective, something else must be done. I feel that just like the federal Air Marshal program, we should create a new branch of law enforcement designed to combat the inconsiderate. These plainclothes officers will be present to police people who are incapable of observing the required protocol in various public situations. Though many in society would be OK with seeing such individuals beaten with large canes as I believe they still do in Singapore to people who buy wicker furniture from Pier 1, I have a better idea. The officers will arrest these individuals, and upon proof of their crimes, they will be placed in the Inconsiderate Behavior Reeducation Program which consists of the following:

1. Offenders face a one year ban from all forms of public transportation.
2. Offenders must pay a fine of at least $500 to be donated to a local charity (not tax deductible).
3. Offenders have to hand out healthy snacks like orange slices or organic carrots at the site of their crime for at least 10 hours at their own expense while carrying a sign that says “People like me are only alive because society has evolved such that it is no longer acceptable to exile me from the tribe and wait for me to die while fending for myself”
4. Offenders are automatically added to a Facebook group called “World’s Worst People” which they stay a member of for 12 months. This is a public group and can be viewed by anyone.
5. Every day for a month offenders are sent an email, flagged high priority with that little exclamation point from Microsoft Outlook for added irritation with a comprehensive public behavior guide created by Martha Stewart. Each night they will complete an online test based on that day’s email and each question missed will equal an extra 20 minutes of time added on to #3.
6. Overseen by government officials, offenders have to spend a total of 20 hours on Skype where other Skype users throughout the world can pay $5 to login and say anything they want to them for up to a minute online. The local government collects all revenues potentially generating up to $6,000 per offense.

Who’s with me?

VH1 decided to take it upon themselves to instruct and scold men as it pertains to their dating exploits with the series “Undateable: The Top 100 Things Guys Do That Guarantee They Won’t Be Dating Or Having Sex” based on the book by Ellen Rakieten and Anne Coyle.

I can actually tell you the 1 thing that will also ensure this which is being so confused that you would turn to VH1 for your dating knowledge in the first place. Afterall, this is the network that brought us Flavor of Love, I Love New York, Rock of Love, and Tool Academy so if you think they’re out to give you quality romantic advice then you are in the right IQ range to be a contestant on one of those shows. Go ahead and do it, your Mensa application can wait.

The aim of this show is more in the pursuit of laughs than really trying to give advice anyway because it seems to eschew the big picture ideas that might make more sense for the more hilarious format of listing things that are basically just bad ideas in the first place. From what I’ve seen so far the list includes the kinds of things that complicate the acquisition of friends overall, not just romantic interests. Let’s review some of them:

• Ordering wine at a baseball game
  • I mean, wine at a ballgame? Well no shit. Even most men in San Francisco know better than that, but mostly because it is hard to find the right grape varietal to pair with a vegan soy dog topped with brie and hormone-free caviar.
• Having a Mullet
  • Are we still talking about mullets? How long is the mullet thing really going to be relevant? Is Jeff Foxworthy doing some of the writing for VH1 now? Whomever needs to be told their mullet is not going to help their game likely should be informed in person because they must not have television, internet, or access to recently printed media, so look for them at a Tea Party gathering.
• Cellphone belt clip
  • This one is kind of played out too, but it is basically the modern day equivalent to the pocket protector. In my day, that’s one way the nerds were differentiated on Saved by The Bell, and I don’t watch any of the teen shows now, but my guess is that the nerds on them have Cellphone belt clips to more functionally access the digital memo containing their hit lists. Nerds have gotten a lot meaner since the early 90′s.
• Owning more than one cat
  • Having one cat is pushing it. What you need to ask yourself is “Am I Sarah McLaughlin?” If the answer is “No”, then stop trying to rescue more cats because while it may be nice, it will get you absolutely nowhere with women whether VH1 decides to include that little tidbit of dating reality or not.
• Wearing socks with Sandals
  • Another obvious one because just from a purely objective standpoint, the two should be mutually exclusive. Sandals are specifically designed to be worn barefoot and if you need socks on, then it isn’t exactly sandal weather, making them the wrong choice of footwear. I will say that this does not apply to you if you are wearing the traditional Japanese tabi sock which is specifically designed to go with sandals. Typically these are worn by traditional Japanese dancers and artists, Shinto priests and Buddhist monks as well as waiters and waitresses in traditional Japanese restaurants. The only non-Japanese guy I can think of who can pull this off is Richard Gere. So if you’re Richard Gere, go for it, but if you’re not Japanese or Richard Gere, which is a lot of people, then as the saying goes- you don’t tug on superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind, you don’t pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger, and you don’t mess around with Jim, unless he’s wearing socks with sandals, in which case ridicule the hell out of that douche.

You get the picture here. The full list of offenses discussed in this show is exhaustive, but what I’m saying is that these things aren’t specific to dating, they’re just general rules of thumb men should follow in the pursuit of any sort of social acceptance. Many of the items are divergent from a central theme like not being cheap (asking to go dutch on a date, not paying for valet parking and making a date walk instead, etc.). OK, VH1, we get it, men need to spend money on women if they’re going to have a chance. In doing so, women can more effectively acquire necessary resources, convenience, and possibly items that are luxuries like yoga pants. An inability or unwillingness to do so is grounds for eternal bachelorhood and diminishes ones chances of having their DNA carried on. This has been true since man made his home in caves and painted murals by torchlight late into the night after the women had grown tired from bitching about how they could have had more deerskin blankets if only the men had planned the hunt better and not waited til the last minute to pull all their spears together when they knew they were going to do it before the next full moon in the first place.

But the reality, which I am pretty sure VH1 decided to leave out is that you can do everything they say not to and still get a lot of action if you are loaded. You could have an all business up front/party in the rear haircut, own 3 cats that share your bed with you,  a Motorola Razr (there’s still some out there owned by classic phone enthusiasts) clipped to your belt, white socks up to your knees with Birkenstocks on, and a glass of Cabernet Franc in each hand for the Yankees/Mets series which you and your date took the subway to instead of a cab and still do pretty well for yourself with the ladies, provided you are wealthy. Just ask that terrible woman from the show Millionaire Matchmaker on Bravo- she’ll back me up, though I have a ways to go before she’ll hook me up.

It’s like a Panini, but for rednecks. KFC recently unveiled a new sandwich, the Double Down which consists of two pieces of bacon, two slices of Monterey Jack and Pepperjack cheese, and the Colonel’s sauce (mayonnaise, only deadlier) sandwiched by two pieces of either grilled or fried chicken breast with enough salt (sodium) to give the Dead Sea a hard on. Since this is a post devoted entirely to a fast food sandwich, I would like to balance the nonsense of such an endeavor with some educational information on the wonderful ingredient of sodium without which there would be no Double Down: the English word salary actually stems from the latin salarium which were wafers of salt sometimes given to Roman soldiers along with their wages. Working at KFC today probably yields a similar payment structure.

Moving on, the sandwich definitely satisfies the food pyramid of the American diet, ensuring that daily bacon and special sauce requirements are met while seeing to it that the boundaries of sodium and fat intake recommendations can continue to be tested because those guidelines were undoubtedly created by pussies. Their commercials implore you to “explore the un-hungry side” of KFC, and for me, the un-hungry side starts every time I think of their food. The Double Down represents a desire to continue pushing the envelope of how quickly Americans can eat themselves to death, which has become somewhat of a national pastime close in popularity to the other national pastimes of getting real pissed off about paying taxes of any sort and/or worrying about Satan. Having said that, I would like to see someone take the Double Down to the next level by adding a beef patty and then a Cinnabon to both ends of this sandwich, resulting in a mega-sandwich that Anthony Bourdain will end up trying in an episode of “No Reservations” before working in a reference to Ingmar Bergman somehow.

But anyway, back to the Double Down and the way it shits on all concepts of sensible cuisine, ironic because eating one undoubtedly conflicts with what you might be able to shit on. What we have in the Double Down is the celebrity sex tape of fast food. It’s not so much the revenue or margins that the Double Down will directly account for as it is the overall notoriety it will garner for  KFC via media attention and posts like this one. The item is nothing short of absurd. Fried chicken breasts shouldn’t necessarily be affiliated with sandwiches at all, however, for them to actually be the sandwiching component is like putting the creme filling of an Oreo on either side of the chocolate wafer. Ok, I’d probably still eat it too, but it wouldn’t be right.

I haven’t actually eaten a Double Down because if I’m going to become obese it is going to be on something worthwhile like Stroopwaffels which they don’t serve at KFC yet as you can’t pair them with gravy without incurring the wrath of a dozen angry Dutchmen. And believe you me, no one wants anything to do with a dozen angry Dutchmen. So, I can’t comment on its taste, though I imagine the Double Down probably tastes ok if you are the kind of person who puts ranch on pizza or commits other abominations against food. This satisfactory taste is probably going to be followed by physical discomfort and then regret, and if you’re after that you might as well just watch The Tonight Show.

I would like to paint for you a picture of another dimension, a dimension where spending money frivolously is a competition, and due to a lack of purpose, individuals fashion their pets in their own likeness. In this dimension, the universe is not an infinite interwoven set of galaxies, it is rather an infinite interwoven set of Burberry scarves in which live people sustained by the fibers thereof in a manner we might equate to our own sun. Also in this skewed, soul-less dimension, societies spend $300 Million on dog clothing.

You might think this other dimension is the only place where so much could be spent on something so completely useless, however, according to a recent article in the New York Post, Americans spent approximately $300 million on dog clothing in 2009 (click here to read the article). So, needless to say, I thought that this deserved some attention, and by attention, I mean ridicule. Buying outfits for a dog is just like using that little exclamation point in Microsoft Outlook when you want your email to have “high priority.” Sure, you can do it, but all it does is make people want to smack you.

Many countries can’t even adequately clothe their populations and yet by spending $300 million annually on it, Americans are in effect saying “ha ha, in our country we are so affluent we buy clothes for things you might accept as food at a level that exceeds your GDP.”  If you purchase clothing for your dog, I suppose you probably think it’s cute. It’s not cute. To other dog clothing owners it might seem acceptable, but to well adjusted members of society, it is the source of competing laughter and ire. Now that someone has put a monetary value on the industry in the US, and that said monetary value is absurd, it is along the lines of a national shame just like NASCAR.

If you are a single heterosexual male (none of these apply to you, Eric Massa) you are likely familiar with a puppy’s value to you in your quest to meet women. However, putting any sort of clothing on that puppy is what you call a neutralizer of that effect and in fact there is an inverse relationship between the amount of clothing on your dog and the amount of clothing most women will subsequently remove for you. Ladies, the fact is guys will still sleep with you regardless of how much clothing is on your dog, so while sexual repercussions do not apply to you, you are mostly to blame for this and you still need to knock it off.

I dog-ress, but Attention Poor Discretionary Income Spending Americans: Dogs already have coats, they’re descriptively called “coats” and they consist of fur. Unlike humans or Heidi Montag, God created dogs with pretty much everything they were intended to have unless you’re doing something crazy like raising Whippets in Siberia which is really mean cause no dog should have to live in a country where they might at one point have to fly Aeroflot. Your dog doesn’t need a raincoat, shoes, sweater vest, visor, or Snuggie, because animals don’t wear clothes, they frequently become them. Sweater vests, visors, and Snuggies shouldn’t even really go on people. The NY Post article referenced above even cites veterinarians who contend that clothing your dog might endanger its health, mostly because normal dogs who are not wearing clothing will just want to kick its ass. If your dog needs clothing, there is something it likely needs even more than that which is a new owner who isn’t intent on being a jackass.

In closing, here’s a few things your dog might be thinking when you dress it up. I invite you to add to this list:

“Sure you cut my balls off, but this really takes the cake”
“I guess dogs can look gay too”
“Just cause you get cold in this weather doesn’t mean that I am also a pussy”

Football fans and champions of poor grammar alike are by now familiar with the phrase “Who Dat”, a rallying cry for the New Orleans Saints Football team. This phrase is a shortening of an originally longer chant popularized in the 80′s: “Who Dat Say Dey Gonna Beat Dem Saints? Who Dat? Who Dat?” which in English means “Who is it that might assert they would be better at Football than the Saints? Who is it? Who is it?” Although the true author of this quote is being contested, it is quite likely that there is an open position with their name on it at the San Francisco Chronicle.

Anyway, the Wall St. Journal is reporting that the NFL is now contesting ownership of the phrase “Who Dat” because their academic pursuits have become tiresome. The NFL asserted rights to the phrase through the Florida department of state earlier last week and subsequently issued cease and desist orders regarding the sales of merchandise with the phrase to many local businesses in New Orleans. I find it unfortunate that the NFL has time for these types of shenanigans particularly in a city whose economy, along with mastery of elementary English grammar, could still use a lot of help. I mean, can’t the NFL just let New Orleans have their confusing sayings to themselves?

Residents of New Orleans are rightfully pointing out that the NFL never cared much about the phrase when the Saints were losing, but now that there is money to be made putting “Who Dat” on a t-shirt, beer koozie, or Louisiana issued drivers licenses, they all of a sudden are claiming dat dey own dat phrase. Maybe they want it because it’s actually an acronym for John Madden’s favorite breakfast: Western Ham Omelette, Danish And Toast. Maybe they want it because they’re investors in the Dr. Seuss/Football Hybrid movie being produced by 20th Century Fox “Horton Hears a Who Dat” starring Hugh Jackman and Madonna. I’m not sure why the NFL wants to be the one who mispronounced something and then misspelled it when writing it out so badly, but this never would have happened in the XFL.

Who Dat knocking at the door? It’s greed, it’s someone more heartless than Jay Leno’s agent, it’s everything wrong with our legal system except that it is absent of anything Judge Judy related. Beyond that, it’s just an absolute joke and I hope the residents of NOLA find a way to stick it to the NFL, so I’ll leave you with some recommendations:

• Get someone on the team to step up and pull an Ochocinco by getting their last name legally changed to “Whodat” so that jerseys can once again be legally printed with the phrase on it.
• Designing merchandise with illustrations of hands performing the sign language version of “Who Dat” with an additional hand at the end featuring only a middle finger and then “NFL.”
• Changing the chant from “Who Dat” to “Qui est ce”, a rough French equivalent hearkening to the region’s French heritage and making the French feel good about someone speaking their language again.
• Coming up with an entirely new song which preserves the grammatically incorrect roots of the original, but takes it a step further:
  Who dat being all malevolent?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat ruining a nice event?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat being like Ebeneezer Scrooge?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat acting like a big ol’ Douche?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat coming like a comic book villian,
  Who dat likely to prostitute they own children,
  Who dat struggling to complete easy mazes,
  Who dat laying claim to grammatically incorrect phrases?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.

The world’s smallest republic, the pacific island nation of Nauru, decided to recognize Abkhazia, a breakaway region of the republic of Georgia as a separate country recently. Nauru is more or less a rock in the south pacific that is about 8 square miles and contains approximately 11,000 residents. It seems to be rather scenic although that doesn’t count for much at the U.N., just ask New Zealand. At least they don’t have a show on MTV that makes them all look bad. I’m pretty sure it’s one of those countries you might be able to buy for like $10,000 and a promise not to invite any Scientologists. With all that in mind I guess the people of Abkhazia will apparently take what they can get as they were pretty excited about Nauru’s announcement, although I find it hard to see how this gets them closer to true independence. It’s not like other countries are going to say to themselves “Well, for a while I wasn’t sure, but now that Nauru is on board, I am totally down with recognizing them as a sovereign nation.”

Nauru is the 4th country to recognize Abkhazia officially, joining Russia, Venezuela, & Nicaragua on the list, so now it’s a party. I think Russia did it because they have an axe to grind with Georgia and couldn’t find the right message to express their feelings on someecards.com. I’m pretty sure Venezuela just did it because of the Chavez/Putin/Medvedev bromance, & Nicaragua probably got on board because Venezuela promised them an ice cream & pizza party that has yet to materialize.

Nauru’s love isn’t free, however, as it was reported by the New York Times that they simultaneously requested $50 million in aid from Russia in return for recognizing Abkhazia’s independence which Russia has long supported. Nauru pulled a similar stunt back in 2002 when they severed ties with Taiwan after accepting $130 million from China, which caused Taiwan to say “Who?” and then move on with the rest of their life. Nauru reversed the move a few years later anyway, but by then they’d spent the money on several boxes of organic cereal from Whole Foods, so China had no recourse.

It seems that Nauru’s main industry/export is independence recognition or non-recognition, which is not what you call a sustainable economic model, but is a great gig for as long as you can keep it going just like that whole grad school thing. It’s as if the U.N. is Tiger Woods and Nauru is a not so hot bartender who once appeared on a bad T.V. show that will do lots of things when they smell money. But hey, in today’s world love is love, whether it is based entirely on someone’s finances or not so leave a little extra change on the dresser for them, Abkhazia, cause they need it. And good luck with your independence, I’d recognize it as well if you could get Russia to throw a little love my way too. Until then, have fun as part of Georgia, I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. Ok, I’m lying, it actually sounds pretty shitty.

As you may have noticed, Vampires are all the rage these days with the genre pervading popular culture. Someone decided they are a concept that works and then before you know it they’re everywhere. It’s like what happened with Uggs and now look where we are. That’s right, ashamed.

You used to only see vampires on Halloween, or on the field trips  to Wal-Mart’s corporate headquarters in elementary school. In such limited doses, they were tolerable though fixated on efficient supply chain management in the latter instance. Now you can’t escape them thanks to Twilight, True Blood, The Vampire Diaries, Being Human, and a bunch of other things that people who shop at Hot Topic would know about. I guess Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a little full of herself regarding her job title because there still seem to be a lot of Vampires out there she didn’t get to. No wonder it was canceled.

I guess it’s that it’s hard for me to see why Vampires, of all things, have achieved such notoriety. They seem to be pretty one dimensional and highly flawed given that all they really do is suck blood and that they have some sort of food allergy issue with garlic. FYI, this type of behavior puts them at a high risk of contracting Hepatitis C. Here’s a typical day in their life as far as I can tell: wake up, apologize to bloody person next to them & exchange contact info without really intending to call, get coffee, suck some blood, avoid garlic, maybe update their LinkedIn status, and then call it good. I thought being boring and genetically flawed only got people like Jon&Kate + 8 on TV, but clearly this is not the case.

But anyway, back to my point which is that I am tired of Vampires because of their ubiquity in popular culture at the moment. They’ve just come to symbolize the lack originality we find in popular media because everyone is doing the Vampire thing. I know each show/movie/book has it’s own twist on it, but it’s pretty transparent that instead of coming up with new ideas, studios & networks would rather take a concept that has proven itself and figure out how to eke out an existence on it. It’s ironic because you’d think that Vampires and leeches would be in direct conflict with one another, but I guess the two are complimentary in this case.

It hasn’t always been this way though- Bram Stoker’s Dracula had a certain elegance to it, mostly because when you read it, you didn’t envision men in way too much white makeup. Unless maybe you did because you’re into that, which, you know, is cool except in Utah. Dracula became a classic for good reason and basically spawned the entire Vampire genre. I’m not saying shows like True Blood aren’t good, I’m just saying that if you decide you’re going to be creative and write a book, or produce a movie or TV show about Vampires, then someone else beat you to it so do something original like write about people trapped on a desert island or something. It could even be a reality show if you want. Just stay away from Vampires cause that whole genre is pretty well covered these days. Kudos to whoever started this whole thing though, because you turned out to be right that the concept had legs. I wonder if you’re the same person who started the legal show trend of several years ago, in which case, it’s nice to see you coming up with an idea for a show that doesn’t take place at a law firm set in Boston. Now come up with something else, or at least let me know where I can find reruns of Alley McBeal. Either way, no more Vampires, please. Thank you.

For centuries, quacks, charlatans, and individuals of ill repute have enjoyed passing the time by coming up with predictions foretelling the apocalypse. It goes back a long time, but things like the fall of Rome, the plague, World Wars, and the Y2K  non-event we all celebrated a few years ago have been packaged into unbelievable yet heeded warnings of how the world is coming to an end.

Recently, you may have heard about the year 2012 and some of the retarded predictions about it being the end of the world. This is due in part to the even more retarded movie coming out entitled 2012 which departs from anything Hollywood has ever done and gives us a movie about the end of the world. Although I frequently review movies I deem to be bad, yet haven’t seen, the main point about the connection between any prediction and Sony Pictures doing a movie about it starring John Cusack should be that there is absolutely no need to worry about that prediction coming true.

Much of the belief in the world ending in 2012 is due to misinterpretation of the Mayan calendar which ends a cycle on December 21st, 2012. For some reason, confused people in a variety of faiths have decided that maybe God forgot something when he wrote their respective texts which the Mayan calendar sheds some insight on. Sort of like insider trading, religion-style. What these goobers are neglecting is the fact that after it ends, the cycle simply restarts because the Mayans knew that the world was a little bigger than their calendar which is something the people at Hallmark are still figuring out.

In a 2007 article discussing doomsday predictions for 2012 in USA Today, Sandra Noble, an expert on Mesoamerican cultures, indicated that for Mayan civilization the end of a cycle would have likely meant a large celebration, probably along the lines of what Prince was envisioning when he wrote the song “1999″ although probably a lot less androgynous. The only reason the Mayans would have wanted the world to end in 2012 was if they knew the concept would be appropriated for a John Cusack movie. The fact that it has Danny Glover would have been forgivable to them, though not ideal.

So all of the 2012 apocalyptic talk and the accompanying dump director Roland Emmerlich and  composer-producer Harald Kloser took together and named 2012 the movie is yet another bastardization of a Native American concept to be sold en masse.  It’s similar to what was done with corn, only less delicious and one day you might find the movie 2012 sold at KFC for $1.99 as well, so the parallels are many. The director also did Independence Day and Day After Tomorrow, so I don’t think the man has ever met an apocalypse he didn’t like. Further, although December 21st, 2012 will not pertain to the end of the world, 2012 could be a real number for the following:

• $2,012.00 might be the total that the movie 2012 grosses worldwide, including DVD sales.
• 2,012 people might be willing to see their world end and actually die rather than sit through the movie.
• 2,012 years ago, a 12 year old Jesus might have just stuck with carpentry if he knew that one day the movie 2012 would get greenlit.

There was a better chance of the world ending the day R.E.M’s “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” hit the airwaves back in November 1987 than there is that the world will end in 2012. I don’t understand why everyone is talking about it now anyway, I mean it’s still 3 years away. That’s enough time for a sequel and a prequel to the apocalypse. I encourage everyone to start taking bets about the end of the world coming on December 21st, 2012 now though. If you win, someone may actually end up paying you, and if you lose, you and your creditors will be swallowed by a giant fissure in the earth and it won’t matter unless they have credit reporting agencies down there, and given the proximity to hell, there very well may be some. Please email me if you are interested in such a wager and also include how many degrees of separation there are between you and Jerry Falwell, anyone who has ever appeared on “The Hills”, or the contestants on “My Antonio” because I am making a chart.

There is only one recurring theme in the song “Girls, Girls, Girls” by Motley Crue, and that recurring theme is repetition. Not only in the incessant repetition of that one word, but of things like names of strip clubs of which 6 different ones are mentioned in 3 different stanzas. A quick glance reveals that over 15% of this song’s lyrics are either the word “Girls” or the name of a strip club. This makes it relatively pointless to analyze as the message is fairly straight-forward and simplistic, but I’d like to ask you how insightful you would be if you needed a bottle of Jack every day just to feel right.

Friday night and I need a fight
My motorcycle and a switchblade knife
Handful of grease in my hair feels right
But what I need to make me tight are those

Initially our artist seems to be content with merely stabbing someone after riding his motorcycle to make his Friday night a satisfactory one. He goes on to indicate that a handful of grease in his hair feels right, although it is unclear if anyone else would agree with that statement. Perhaps someone disagreed but got stabbed and then run over by the artist on his motorcycle, which is a high price to pay for a disagreement involving hair, but was not completely unjustifiable given the degree of seriousness that accompanied men’s hair in the 80′s.

Girls, Girls, Girls
Long legs and burgundy lips
Girls,Girls, Girls
Dancin’ down on Sunset Strip
Girls, Girls, Girls
Red lips, fingertips

Although the artist has noted stabbings, motorcycle riding, and well greased hair are things they are amenable to, they here inform us that these pastimes still leave them feeling incomplete, leading to the chorus that tells us what finally makes them whole, which in case there is any confusion, happens to be girls. Of the 22 words in this chorus, 9 of them are the word “Girls”. This phenomenon is known as “Motley’s Law” which states that the makings of an 80′s hair band hit require no less than 41% of its chorus to be the same word. People like things they can remember.

The descriptions are short and the redundancies many as we thus ascertain that the desirable type of girls are the kind with long legs and mostly red body parts. Initially burgundy surfaces as the desired shade of red on the lips of the much noted girls. After the information that they dance on the Sunset Strip, the artist then seems to have realized that perhaps their demographic is unfamiliar with the term “Burgundy” so they simplify their lip color declaration and simply say that red lips are desirable instead of the aforementioned esoteric description of “burgundy” and also state that red fingertips are nice as well. Basically, this entire chorus could have been simplified to “Girls, red” and you would still come away with the same information.

Trick or treat-sweet to eat
On Halloween and New Year’s Eve
Yankee girls ya just can’t be beat
But they’re the best when they’re off their feet

Although Motley Crue hails from Los Angeles, California, their observance of popular American holidays appears to be obscure, as although trick or treating and eating sweets does correspond closely to Halloween, it typically has nothing to do with New Year’s Eve. At this stage we do receive much more insight into what the artist is after as they indicate Yankee girls are unbeatable. The term Yankee has a variety of meanings, sometimes applied to all citizens of the United States, and sometimes referring only to residents of America’s north eastern states. It is unclear whether they are using the broader or more narrow description, but either way, the artist prefers them off their feet. As such, we can only assume that they are after girls in wheelchairs indicating a strange inclination towards elderly, injured, or infirmed women. Herein lies a contradiction as this would severely inhibit a girl’s ability to dance on the Sunset Strip save for the occasional paraplegic night many local strip clubs featured at the time, but perhaps the artist has included this enigma to challenge their fans to seek the true meaning of their words.

Girls, Girls, Girls
At the Dollhouse in Ft. Lauderdale
Girls, Girls. Girls
Rocking in Atlanta at Tattletails
Girls, Girls, Girls
Raising Hell in the 7th Veil
Have you read the news
In the Soho Tribune
Ya know she did me
Well then she broke my heart

The Dollhouse, Tattletails, and the 7th Veil are all strip clubs in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, Atlanta, Georgia, and Los Angeles, California respectively. Each of these locations features girls, girls, girls, one of which was apparently quite insensitive to the artist and broke the poor man’s heart. Perhaps he wasn’t aware that she was only pretending to like him during his lap dance, which in all fairness she probably failed to communicate effectively. She also may have been a woman of some repute as the incident seems to have been reported in a publication known as the Soho Tribune which I can find no record of.

I’m such a good good boy
I just need a new toy
I tell ya what, girl
Dance for me, I’ll keep you overemployed
Just tell me a story
You know the one I mean

You may have been under the impression that the lyrics of this song could not become more simple given the previous stanza, however, this one lowers the bar another notch. The artist begins with some braggadocio  indicating that he is good, and deserving of a new toy, perhaps as a reward for his good behavior. He seems to be an avid employer of dancing as he offers a solution to the problem of underemployment by promising to keep the dancer overemployed which is a novel concept, mostly because it isn’t a word. He also requests the re-telling of a familiar story which seems to be familiar to both of them. My guess is that the story may be Passage 1:19 from the Biblical Book of Luke  where the angel Gabriel appears to Zacharias:

• “And the angel answering said unto him, I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God; and am sent to speak unto thee, and to shew thee these glad tidings.”

This would make sense as the story our artist wants to hear because altough the stripper before him has broken his heart, he finds solace in the hope that an Angel would perhaps bring to him glad tidings when she took the stage later that evening.

Crazy Horse, Paris, France
Forgot the names, remember romance
I got the photos, a menage a troi
Musta broke those Frenchies laws with those

Moving on, the Crazy Horse is another strip club, and the artists seem to have forgotten the names of the dancers there, likely because in France they aren’t all named “Savannah”. They do however, remember the romance that apparently occurred and this romance has been documented with photographic evidence. The artists seem to be ignorant of the French legal code however because nothing mentioned in this previous stanza would seem to be illegal under French law. It is possible that they are confusing French laws with Utah laws in which case most of the previous stanza would be illegal, but that’s why Utah is the “Beehive State” and not “The state you’ll get laid in” which I believe was aleady taken by New Hampshire anyway.

Girls, Girls, Girls
Body Shop and the Marble Arch
Girls, Girls, Girls Tropicana’s where I lost my heart
Girls, Girls, Girls

14 out of the 21 words in this stanza are either “Girls” or the names of strip clubs which for those you keeping track would be 2/3. This gives us the highest ratio of “Girls” and strip club names to total words of any stanza in this song. It’s like they gave up but needed one more verse in order for the song to be long enough to make it on the radioThe only time the words rhyme in this verse is when it is the same word. I suppose “Girls” does rhyme with “Girls” but if we accepted this as legitimate poetic structure then even Dave Matthews would be considered an artist.

In this installment of “Songs Dissected“, we will take a look at the song “Human”. Now I know what you’re thinking- “Human” by The Human League, a number 1 hit from 1986, however the song I am talking about is that song by The Killers which you hear on your favorite radio stations between songs by Kings of Leon. “Human” is catchy and a bona-fide hit, that also asks important questions about humanity related to dance. A considerable debate has apparently raged on the internet regarding the lyrics to this song, but I have gone with the general consensus that the chorus is “are we human, or are we dancer.” Yes, “dancer”, singular, don’t ask me cause I don’t know why.

I did my best to notice
When the call came down the line
Up to the platform of surrender
I was brought but I was kind

So here we go. “Human” starts with the artist receiving a phone call, undoubtedly eating into his rollover minutes. The call results with him being brought up to the “platform of surrender”, which some have described as a diving board with a French flag painted on it, but this cannot be confirmed. Apparently when he got there though, he was kind, so perhaps it was a diving board with a box of Twinkies in addition to a box of Ding Dongs on it.

And sometimes I get nervous
When I see an open door
Close your eyes, clear your heart
Cut the cord

Here the artist’s lyrics imply that he is one of the ~20,000 Americans who suffer from a fear of Home Depot due to his aversion to open doors and the abundance of them in their doors & windows section. This is an under-reported, but devastating mental illness, and rather than deal with his anxieties head on, the artist prefers to close his eyes, clear his heart, perhaps through the use of a cholesterol-reducing medication such as Lipitor, and cut the cord.

Or perhaps the open door could be a metaphor of life’s opportunities, his nervousness about these indicating a fear of failure. Closing his eyes, clearing his heart, and cutting the cord might be interpreted as leaving fear, past experiences and attachment behind so that he can conquer his fears and seize the opportunities before him. Whatever.

Are we human or are we dancer?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I’m on my knees looking for the answer
Are we human or are we dancer?

At this stage, the artist begins to ask an important question which seems to confound him throughout this lyrical exercise. He wants to know if we are human, or if we are dancer, apparently convinced that the two are mutually exclusive. I refute this hypothesis and offer potential answers as follows:

a) we are human only
b) we are dancer only
c) we are both human and dancer
d) we are neither human nor dancer

My assertion is that the correct answer is c) we are both human and dancer. However, if by “we”, The Killers mean white people, then the answer may be a) we are human only.

Pay my respects to grace and virtue
Send my condolences to good
Give my regards to soul and romance
They always did the best they could

I have never heard of anyone saying their last goodbyes to qualities and/or adjectives, but that appears to be what is going on here. Apparently, the artist is parting with many things society views as positive traits such as virtue, soul, and romance. With that in mind he may be about to join Dave Matthews Band, but the exact reason for this is left ambiguous.

And so long to devotion
You taught me everything I know
Wave goodbye, wish me well
You’ve gotta let me go

This is getting a little overly sentimental now. “Devotion” apparently taught him everything he knows which makes no sense. However, this is probably better than being taught everything you know at a Catholic private school because then everything you know is that the earth formed a few thousand years ago and whenever you picture someone naked you get a little closer to hell.

Are we human or are we dancer?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I’m on my knees looking for the answer
Are we human or are we dancer?

c) we are both human and dancer. Unless by “we” you mean Justin Timberlake, in which case the answer is b) we are dancer only because the human part I’m not so sure about. You may get up now.

Will your system be alright
When you dream of home tonight?
There is no message we’re receiving
Let me know, is your heart still beating?

It is unclear which system the artist is referring to here. Is it a computer system? Maybe they should shut down all the windows and restart? They should also clear their cache and cookies and I doubt that’s the cause of the problem, but I always get told to do it anyway.

Moving on, the artist also indicates “there is no message we’re receiving” which reminds me of the song “Major Tom Coming Home” by Peter Schilling which I just realized has a German version like 99Luft Balloons by Nena. In the English version there is a line: ” ‘Hello Major Tom, are you receiving? Turn the thrusters on, we’re standing by.’ There’s no reply” and in the German version he probably asks the same thing, just more efficiently, without emotion, and while eating Haribo Gummi Bears. This does nothing to explain these lyrics, I just thought I’d share that.

But whatever, I’m getting tired of all the questions here, seriously, just like I am tired of hearing about the guy who landed that plane on the Hudson.  I mean, they talk about “the unlikely event of a water landing” on every flight, and calling it that kind of makes it seem like the plane can just land on water if a runway is not available. Therefore, it shouldn’t be such a huge deal when someone actually does it, so in this respect, I give the pilot a C for doing a satisfactory job.

Are we human or are we dancer?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I’m on my knees looking for the answer

c) we are both human and dancer. Unless by “we” you mean a pod of dolphins, in which case the answer would be d) we are neither human nor dancer.

You’ve gotta let me know
Are we human or are we dancer?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I’m on my knees looking for the answer
Are we human or are we dancer? (repeat 3x)

c) we are both human and dancer. Unless by “dancer” you mean one of Santa’s Reindeer, who if I remember correctly was sort of a dick to Rudolph. If so I’d have to once again change my answer to a) we are human only cause no way would I want to be associated with that douche. I’d much rather hang with the overrated dude who landed the plane on the Hudson.