Be sure to get your daily fruits and vegs

Filed under:Daily Trash, just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on April 2, 2008 @ 12:40 pm

Always a good choice: Apples and Oranges.

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Warning! These can be dangerous!

Filed under:just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on March 1, 2008 @ 8:56 am

Records incorrectly kill off thousands, and there’s no easy fix

Oh lord. I can think of a few records that would cause death:

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This must have been the day after they left Welk, ‘cuz he’d never allow those boots.

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this one contributed to the death of my parents’ marriage (thank the I.O.P.!)

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i love these two records. they used to drive my ex-bf insane.

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Mr. Mitchum will slay you with his coolness.

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One of my very favorites. Well, a psychotic reaction can kill you, I guess.

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I love this one, but my boyf will die of annoyance if I play it.

why these? they were in my photobucket album, that’s why. for more lethal selections, check the ‘just wrong songs’ category.

Pray for Rosemary’s Baby!

Filed under:just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on July 31, 2007 @ 11:35 am

Peter Holsapple sent me this masterpiece by Chuck Stephens the other day and it blew my mind. Thank the Infant of Prague that the incredible Phil Milstein has a link and everyone can listen! Howie and I are obsessed with it. Peter writes:

“Well… this is just one of the treasures that I found when I worked at Musical Maze at 23rd and 3rd Ave starting in 1979. George Scott from the Contortions and 8 Eyed Spy and the Raybeats worked there with me and was the singles buyer. He had a box of this because he recognized that it was just the greatest thing on earth.

I’ve never ever ever found anything about the guy Chuck Stevens. I don’t have the single anymore, but I’ve found this wonderful link where it was (I believe it’s Phil Milstein’s page.)

The label and number was JenJillus 800. The flip side was ‘Love You Madly’, which I have no idea how it goes. Chuck Stephens is the correct spelling.”

PS. Be sure to check Phil’s page of treasures, b/c, among other things, he’s got two Jack Palance songs on there (session 112.) If you’ve happened to stumble across Palance’s bone-chilling “performance” of “Hannah” on The Porter Wagoner Show, you’ll agree that “Sudden Fear” was more than just one of his movie titles.

Just wrong songs - phone calls

Filed under:just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on July 28, 2007 @ 7:24 pm

Jim Turner suggested this one and dammit, it sure is good. Now, first off, we both blame Andy Paley, who found this record back in the 80s. I seem to recall he found an entire box of them, but that was a long time ago when we used to do things like chloral hydrates. In any case, it’s unforgettable, and it’s not going away anytime soon. Every now and then, someone will say, “Ever hear that song, ‘Hello Lucille Are You a Lesbian?’” That’s one “T. Valentine” singing, and his phrasing is so off that it becomes one bizarre, sordid haiku:

Hello, Lucille
Are you a lesbian?
Do you like
to go to bed
with women?

’cause
when i try to get some
she say she got a cold
when i wanna make love
she got female trouble
or that other thing
women have every month.

Huh? What other thing? There is a god, because Norton Records put this out on an entire T. Valentine CD (along w/the 45’s flipside, “Betty Sue” and other classics like “Black Power” parts 1 & 2) and you can listen to it here! (Be sure to read the reviews.)

She don’t have any tits
or wear makeup
or high heels!

By the end of the song (one reviewer gives the “reason behind” the song, but do we need one?), T.V. has lost what little grip he’s had on reality when he comes to the conclusion that

My sister is a lesbian!

He’s outnumbered.

*****

George Jones did a song that has to be one of the most annoying country/novelty (if I can call it that) records I’ve ever heard. It’s a conversation between “Daddy” and “Tina” (”Momma’s under the dryer,” obnoxious real-life stepdaughter Tina explains.) Tammy’s credited, but she’s not in the song per se, except as a character. The confusion that ensues is, I guess, supposed to be cute, but I don’t find arson, crying, or dumb kids funny. George liked songs about arson, as evidenced by the stupendous “I’m Gonna Burn Your Little Playhouse Down.” If you listen to the two songs together, the confusion makes sense, but I’m not sure that’s what George had in mind with
“The Telephone Call”:

Tina, let me talk to your mommy
I can’t right now Daddy, she’s under the dryer
Well, just tell her that the flame of love’s still burning
Mommy, Daddy just said he just caught on fire
Tina, just say I’ll be home early
I better not Daddy, she’s too upset about the fire!
No, the flames of love don’t mean there’s something burning
Mommy, I think Daddy just called you a liar!
Tell her I just called to say I love her
You better wait a while, Daddy, I think she’s really mad
Put down that phone and go and get your Mommy right now. (Finally!)
Daddy, I can’t talk anymore ’cause Mommy just walked right out the door … and I’m going with her. Bye Daddy. I wonder if I did something bad.

*****

I would write about the just-plain-wrong-in-so-many-ways “Memphis,” by Chuck Berry, but what more do you need to know than:

Marie is only six years old
information please
try and put me through to her
in Memphis Tennessee.


(shudder)

*****

Now, who’s to blame for all this phone madness? Sweet tells us in “Alexander Graham Bell,” truly a bizarre piece of music: history + glam rock = this:
+

He always knew just what he could do
He always knew that his dream would come true.

Alexander Graham Bell well he knew darned well
He could find the only way to talk across the U.S.A.
Telephone telephone never be on your own
Many many years ago he started something with his first “Hello”
‘Hello”
Alexander Graham Bell
Alexander Graham Bell
Alexander Graham Alexander Graham
Alexander Graham Bell

The sun rises early in the morning
Millions of people still unaware
Something he discovered without warning
So he could show a girl just how much he cared.

He always knew just what he could do
He always knew that his dream would come true.

Having had evidence of God above, we find further evidence in this video of Sweet teaching us a history lesson on youtube! (PS. Yes, I looked, there is no T Valentine there. Yet.) Dig the purple satin and that … lingering … camera.

just wrong songs, part 4

Filed under:just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on July 10, 2007 @ 9:46 am

this week’s theme is cannibalism. it really should be rupert holmes (someone did submit the pina colada song) but he’s not worthy of an entire blog.

fadista sent this and I don’t know how i don’t know it! she writes:

“OK, I think we discussed this song in the past. It came out in 1971 by a group called The Buoys (ow) and was written by Rupert Holmes, who went on to freak us all out with The Piña Colada Song.”

You can listen to a bit of this atrocity
here.

Timothy

Trapped in a mine what had caved in
And everyone knows the only ones left
Were Joe and me and Tim
When they broke through to pull us free
The only ones left to tell the tale
Was Joe and me.

Timothy, Timothy, where on earth did you go?
Timothy, Timothy, God why don’t I know?

Hungry as hell no food to eat
And Joe said that he would sell his soul
For just a piece of meat
Water enough to drink, to drink for two
And Joe said to me, “I’ll take a swig
And then there’s some for you.”

Timothy, Timothy, Joe was looking at you
Timothy, Timothy, God what did we do?

I must have blacked out just ’round then
‘Cause the very next thing that I could see
Was the light of the day again
My stomach was full as it could be
And nobody ever got around
To finding Timothy
Timothy…

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Eve Golden sends us “Jo-Jo the Cannibal Kid,” which is more of a novelty song, but cannibalism nonetheless. For those of you who got my email about my neighbor, doncha think he’s a shoo-in for the music video?

Who’s the talk at every table,
From Chicago to Madrid?
Who’s the African Clark Gable?

Jo-Jo, the Cannibal Kid!

Other tribes eat roots and berries,
He’s the one that never did—
He prefers his missionaries—
Jo-Jo, the Cannibal Kid!

He can always pass on his manners and his savoir faire
Mix with every class—eats the finest people everywhere!

Circuses send offers daily,
Bertram Mills made him a bid—
But he’s holding out for Barnum Bailey—
Jo-Jo, the Cannibal Kid!

and no lyrics here, but have a listen to Fido is a hot dog now!

Just Wrong Songs, Part 3

Filed under:just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on June 28, 2007 @ 5:43 pm

Again, Bleuvolt and Fadista come up with the best suggestions. The theme this time seems to be “family.” And calm down everyone, there’s plenty more to come!

Fadista: ‘”Fancy” by Bobbie Gentry - know that one? Mother turns out her daughter!’

“Well, I remember it all very well lookin’ back
It was the summer that I turned eighteen.
We lived in a one-room, run down shack
on the outskirts of New Orleans.

We didn’t have money for food or rent
to say the least we was hard-pressed
when Momma spent every last penny we had
to buy me a dancin’ dress.

Well, Momma washed and combed and curled my hair,
then she painted my eyes and lips.
Then I stepped into the satin dancin’ dress.
It had a split in the side clean up to my hips.

It was red, velvet-trimmed, and it fit me good
and standin’ back from the lookin’ glass
was a woman
where a half grown kid had stood.

She said, “Here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down!
Here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down.
God forgive me for what I do,
but if you want out girl it’s up to you.
Now get on out, you better start sleepin’ uptown.”

Momma dabbed a little bit of perfume
on my neck and she kissed my cheek
Then I saw the tears welling up
in her troubled eyes as she started to speak

She looked at our pitiful shack and then
she looked at me and took a ragged breath
She said, Your Pa’s runned off, and I’m real sick
and the baby’s gonna starve to death.

She handed me a heart-shaped locket that said
“To thine own self be true”
and I shivered as I watched a roach crawl across
the toe of my high-healed shoe

It sounded like somebody else was talkin’
askin’, “Momma what do I do?”
She said, “Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy.
They’ll be nice to you.”

She said, “Here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down!
Here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down.
God forgive me for what I do,
But if you want out girl it’s up to you
Now don’t let me down,
now get on out, you better start sleepin’ uptown.”

That was the last time I saw my momma
when I left that rickety shack
The welfare people came and took the baby.
Momma died and I ain’t been back.

But the wheels of fate had started to turn
and for me there was no other way out.
It wasn’t very long after that I knew exactly
what my momma was talkin’ ’bout.

I knew what I had to do.
Then I made myself this solemn vow:
I’s gonna to be a lady someday
though I didn’t know when or how.

But I couldn’t see spendin’ the rest of my life
with my head hung down in shame.
You know I mighta been born just plain white trash.
but Fancy was my name.

She said, “Here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down!
Here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down.
God forgive me for what I do,
but if you want out girl it’s up to you.
Now get on out, you better start sleepin’ uptown.”

Wasn’t long after that a benevolent man
took me in off the streets
One week later I was pourin’ his tea
in a five roomed penthouse suite.

Since then I’ve charmed a king, a congressman
and an occasional aristocrat
and I got me an elegant Georgia mansion
and a New York townhouse flat.

Now I ain’t done bad

Now in this world there’s a lot of self-righteous
hypocrites who call me bad.
They criticize Momma for turning me out
No matter how little we had.

But I haven’t had to worry ’bout nothin’
now for nigh on fifteen years
But I can still hear the desperation
in my poor mommas voice ringin’ in my ears.

“Here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down!
Oh, here’s your last chance, Fancy, don’t let me down.
God forgive me for what I do,
but if you want out girl it’s up to you.
Now get on out, you better start sleepin’ uptown.”


Fancy and her friend, Fabulous, uptown.

Wow! I thought Patches’ parents were neglectful … not only do they join in the public ridicule of his nickname, they guilt trip him beyond belief:

PATCHES
Clarence Carter

I was born and raised down in Alabama on a farm way back up in the woods. Oh
I was so ragged folks used to call me “Patches”. Papa used to tease me about
it, but deep down inside dad was hurtin’ ’cause he’d done the best he could.

My papa was a great old man
I can see him with a shovel in his hand
Education that he never had
But he did wonders when the times got bad
The little money from the crops we raised
Barely paid the bills we made

Oh life whipped him
Down to the ground
When he tried to get up
Life would kick him back down
On the day papa called me
To his dyin’ bed
Placed his hand on my shoulders
And in tears he said

Patches
I’m depending on you, son
To pull the family through
My son, it’s all left up to you

Two days later papa passed away
And I became a man that day
Everyday I had to work the fields
‘Cause that’s the only way
We got our meals
See, I was the oldest of the family
And everybody was depending on me

Now the years have passed
And everybody’s grown
Mama’s been livin’
In a brand new home
Lord knows it took
A lot of sweat and tears
And my daddy’s voice
To help us through the years
He said -

Patches
I’m depending on you, son
To pull the family through
My son, it’s all left up to you

Daddy had been sick for a long time, flat on his back. Every evenin’ after
we’d finish our chores and eat our dinner, we’d all go into papa’s room to
cheer him up a little. And this particular day dad was in good spirits,
sittin’ on the side of the bed, tellin’ mama how good she looked. When all
of a sudden, papa had a pain in his chest. I was too young to understand,
talkin’ about a heart attack here. Mama rushed us all out of the room into
the hallway. About ten minutes later she came out with tears in her eyes.
She called out to me, “Patches, Patches, get in here, boy. Your daddy wanna
see you.” I went runnin’ into papa’s room, there papa lay. Daddy had tears
in his eyes. I knew something was wrong, daddy was a poor man, but all of my
life he’d been a proud man. I knelt down on one knee beside the bed, papa
put his hand on my shoulder. He said, “Patches, Patches, boy, the hammer of
life done beat your old papa down to the ground, and I ain’t got nobody to
turn to to take care of mama and the younger. So what I want you to do is
promise me, son, is that you’re gonna do your best to help your mama as much
as you can.” I said, “Papa, I’m gonna do my best.” But little did I know
then like I know now, that tryin’ to climb life’s mountains searchin’ for a
top where there ain’t no top, sometimes you find yourself frustrated, lazy.
But every time I feel like I can’t live my life like I want to, my mind goes
back to that day when I see those tears in my daddy’s eyes. But most of all
I remember his words, “Patches, I’m dependin’ on you, boy.” Every time I
feel like givin’ up, I hear his voice. “Patches, Patches, Patches, Patches -”

I’m depending on you, son
I’ve tried to do my best
It’s up to you to do the rest

Patches
I’m depending on you, son
I’ve tried to do my best
It’s up to you to do the rest
Patches
I’m depending on you, son
To pull the family through
My son, it’s all left up to you


Patches today, in his shanty.

Bluevolt: ‘”Run Joey Run.” This is some sick shit!’

Run Joey Run
David Geddes

Daddy please don’t, it wasn’t his fault, he means so much to me
Daddy please don’t, we’re gonna get married…just you wait and see.

She called me up, late last night, she said Joe, don’t come over
My dad and I just had a fight, and he stormed out the door
I’ve never seen him act his this way, my God, hes going crazy
He says he’s gonna make you pay, for what we’ve done, he’s got a gun, so

Run Joey Run Joey Run
Daddy please don’t, it wasn’t his fault, he means so much to me
Daddy please don’t, we’re gonna get married…just you wait and see.

I got in my car and I drove like mad, till I reached Julie’s place
She ran to me, with tears in her eyes, and bruises on her face
All at once, I saw him there, sneaking up behind me, WATCH OUT!
Then Julie yelled, he’s got a gun, and she stepped in front of me
Suddenly, a shot rang out, and I saw Julie falling
I ran to her, I held her close, when I looked down, my hands were red,
and heres the last words Julie said…

Daddy please don’t, it wasn’t his fault, he means so much to me
Daddy please don’t, we’re gonna get married…..aaahhh..ahhhh
ahhhh….ahhhhh

Run Joey run Joey run Joey run Joey run Joey run


… cuz Julie didn’t run fast enough!

Just Wrong Songs, Part 2

Filed under:just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on June 8, 2007 @ 7:11 pm

Oh, everyone had suggestions after the last one! Let me try and get down more of these cringe-worthy classics:

Danielle: “Mac Davis: ‘Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me.’”
Here we go again … ‘I’m warnin’ ya, I know you can’t stay away, so if you keep hangin’ around, it’s not my fault!’ Italics mine - as if it needs them.

Girl, you’re gettin’ that look in your eyes
And it’s startin’ to worry me
I ain’t ready for no family ties
Nobody’s gonna hurry me
Just keep it friendly, girl, ’cause I don’t wanna leave
Don’t start clingin’ to me, girl, ’cause I can’t breathe

Baby, baby, don’t get hooked on me
’cause I’ll just use you then I’ll set you free
Baby, baby, don’t get hooked on me

Girl, you’re a hot-blooded woman-child
And it’s warm where you’re touchin’ me (ugh!)
But I can tell by your tremblin’ smile
You’re seein’ way too much in me
Girl, don’t let your life get tangled up with mine
’cause I’ll just leave you, I can’t take no clingin’ vine

Baby, baby, don’t get hooked on me
’cause I’ll just use you then I’ll set you free
Baby, baby, don’t get hooked on me

I’d really like to send some Russ Meyer gals to beat the shit out of Mac Davis.

Next up from Bleuvolt: “Clint Holmes ‘Playground in my Mind.’ That song is so creepy!”

I had forgotten about it, but the second Bleuvolt said that, it brought it all back in its horrifying glory:

When this old world gets me down
And there’s no love to be found
I close my eyes and soon I find
I’m in a playground in my mind
Where the children laugh and the children play
And we sing a song all day

“My name is Michael, I got a nickel
I got a nickel, shiny and new
I’m gonna buy me all kinds of candy
That’s what I’m gonna do”

See the little children
Living in a world that I left behind
Happy little children
In the playground in my mind

Oh the wonders that I find
In the playground in my mind
In a world that used to be
Close your eyes and follow me
Where the children laugh and the children play
And we sing a song all day

“My girl is Cindy
When we get married, we’re gonna have a baby or two
We’re gonna let them visit their grandma
That’s what we’re gonna do”

“My name is Cindy
When we get married, were gonna have a baby or two
We’re gonna let them visit their grandma
That’s what we’re gonna do”

See the little children
See how they’re playing so happy
In the playground in my mind

Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
La la la la la la la

God! I don’t even want those words on my blog! I need to take a shower now.

And I hate to even put Sir Tom on here, because I loooove him. And he didn’t write the lyrics, but “She’s a Lady” does belong:

(I like this one, ‘cuz it has all the ‘woah woah woah’s in it):

Well she’s all you’d ever want,
She’s the kind they’d like to flaunt and take to dinner.
Well she always knows her place.
She’s got style, she’s got grace, She’s a winner.
She’s a Lady. Whoa whoa whoa, She’s a Lady.
Talkin’ about that little lady, and the lady is mine.
Well she’s never in the way
Always something nice to say, Oh what a blessing.
I can leave her on her own
Knowing she’s okay alone, and there’s no messing.

She’s a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She’s a lady.
Talkin’ about that little lady, and the lady is mine.


Well she never asks for very much and I don’t refuse her.
Always treat her with respect, I never would abuse her.
What she’s got is hard to find, and I don’t want to lose her
Help me build a mountain from my little pile of clay. Hey, hey, hey.
Well she knows what I’m about,
She can take what I dish out, and that’s not easy,
Well she knows me through and through,
She knows just what to do, and how to please me.
She’s a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She’s a lady.
Talkin’ about that little lady and the lady is mine.
Yeah yeah yeah She’s a Lady
Listen to me baby, She’s a Lady
Whoa whoa whoa, She’s a Lady
And the Lady is mine
Yeah yeah yeah She’s a Lady
Talkin about this little lady
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
Whoa and the lady is mine
Yeah yeah She’s a Lady
And the Lady is mine.

RP: “Go Away Little Girl.”
Donny Osmond and Johnny Mathis recorded this Goffin-King classic (I have to find that Mathis one … I can’t even imagine.) Yet another along the lines of Puckett and Davis - it’s not my fault!

“Go Away Little Girl”

Won’t you go away (little girl)
Wish you wouldn’t stay (little girl)
Won’t you go away (little girl)
Wooo ooo go away.

Go away little girl
Go away little girl
I’m not supposed to be alone with you
Oh yes I know that your lips are sweet
But our lips must never meet
I belong to somebody else and I must be true.

Please go away little girl
Go away little girl
It’s hurting me more each minute that you delay
When you are near me like this
You’re much too hard to resist
So go away little girl before I beg you to stay.

Won’t you go away (little girl)
Wish you wouldn’t stay (little girl)
Won’t you go away (little girl)
Wooo ooo go away.

Go away little girl
Go away little girl
It’s hurting me more each minute that you delay
When you are near me like this
You’re much too hard to resist
So go away little girl
Call it a day little girl
Please go away little girl before I beg you to stay.

Won’t you go away (little girl)
Wish you wouldn’t stay (little girl)
Won’t you go away (little girl)
Please go away.

You’re lucky these have all been just printed lyrics, because you’ve had a bit of preparation for this horror:


“the you i’ve come to know” - more like the ‘ewwww’ I’ve come to know!

just wrong songs, part 1

Filed under:just wrong songs — posted by Donna Lethal on May 23, 2007 @ 10:18 am

Danielle and I like to make each other’s skin crawl by doing “Eww! Remember this song?”

I did a blog back when on Gary Puckett and the Union Gap. Let me recap:

Man, these songs are SICK. If he were recording these today, he’d be arrested. It’s as if he read “Lolita” and made at least four songs out of it.

“Young Girl”

With all the charms of a woman
You’ve kept the secret of your youth
You led me to believe
You’re old enough
To give me Love
And now it hurts to know the truth, Oh,

Young girl get out of my mind
my love for you is way outta line
better run girl, your much too young girl

Beneath your perfume and make-up
You’re just a baby in disguise
And though you know
That it is wrong to be
Alone with me
That come on look is in your eyes, Oh,

Ok, so he keeps warning her: “Girl, You’ll be a Woman Soon.” In other words: then it’s too late - and your fault!

Then there’s the lovely, “This Girl is a Woman Now” - from the playground she learns her lesson and grows up fast. Courtesy of Gary. Read on and get nauseous:

This girl walked in dreams
Playing in a world of her own
This girl was a child
Existing in a playground of stone
Then one night her world was changed
Her life and dreams were rearanged
And she would never be the same again
This girl is a woman now, and she’s learning how to give
This girl is a woman now, she’s found out what it’s all about
And she’s learning, learning to live
This girl tasted love, as tender as the gentle dawn
She cried a single tear, A teardrop that was sweet and warm
Our hearts told us we were right
And on that sweet and velvet night
A child had died, a woman had been born

Disgusting!

damn, the vid’s on youtube but disabled. i hate when thy do that! well, here’s the link if you wanna look.

When he finally gets her, of course she cheats! “Woman, woman - have you got cheating on your mind?” Therefore giving him carte blanche to haunt playgrounds once again.

Tho my fave is the relatively clean, “Lady Willpower” … finally, she’s boss! I’m going to cover “Young Girl,” but change it around of course, Shangri-La’s style:

Beneath your leather and tattoos

You’re just a boyscout in disguise

Here’s Lady Willpower - great Ed Sullivan!

next up: Mac Davis and Dr. Hook. Break out the calamine lotion. My hives continue and I’m just tormenting myself.