I don’t listen to much screaming metal because I have a basic rule for the music I listen to: If I can’t understand at least 65% of the lyrics, and if the tune is not interesting enough to warrant me putting forth the effort of looking up the misheard words, I don’t care to listen to it. Lyrics, you may have guessed, are an important part of music for me :P.

However, some songs are great just because you can’t understand what the heck they’re saying, and what you force yourself to decode becomes some of the most fantastically ridiculous, hilarious song lyrics ever not actually written. I’ve seen this kind of “interpretation” and “translation” done with a lot of emo songs, but I can’t think of a genre that lends itself to this kind of fun better than screaming metal songs (warning: the finger, and also advertising):

I BITE! THE SALAD BY MY SIDE!!

What song lyrics have you misheard recently, or not so recently?

Last night I decided that I had to get some decent possum pictures, and left the kitchen door and screen open. Why, you ask? I can’t stand lolcats, and just had to make a stand.

I got a bunch of these possum pictures from about two feet away, as a juvenile was eating catfood and spitting in the cat’s water. Yeah, I was on my belly on the floor, sneaking up on him. Or her.

The light you see in the background is a cat’s eye, believe it or not. Here’s a photo with both catlights on:

Photo: Max Sparber

Before you start reading, you should know that the Werewolf in the image doesn’t technically have anything to do with this story. I just like posts with pretty pictures.

40-year-old Robert Marsh had partially broken through the door of the woman’s apartment in the early hours of the morning on March 1, had grabbed the woman’s arm, and mentioned that he was a werewolf who ’had powers’. He had previously been staying in the woman’s flat, as he was homeless following his release from prison. The woman reported that over the previous few days, Marsh had been drinking quite a lot, and becoming steadily less coherent.

When he was arrested, Marsh informed the police that he was able to change his form.

There seems to be a connection between alcohol and turning into a Werewolf. Hmm… that’s not good. Perhaps you’ll soon see me howling and humping the leg of your local newscaster.

Source: Metro

By Critiker of Random Good Stuff

I made a post in a forum a long time ago about the similarities between Ringers and Trekkies, and have re-created it here, with minor tweaking and an extra tablespoon of love for you guys:

Hard core Lord of the Rings fans have been given a name in the past several years, since the movies premiered and gained a bigger fan base: Ringers. I guess. In an interview a few years ago on the Tonight Show, Elijah Wood described Ringers as kind of like Trekkies. And at first I thought that was kind of unfair…I mean, it’s fantasy versus sci-fi, a show versus a movie: dangit, that wasn’t just an unfair comparison, it was a…a…and then I thought, wait. Maybe…maybe…he had a point. I mean, when I thought about it:

Star Trek: features a band of people making their way across space, many species from many planets, helped by the occasional Vulcan comrade: a tall, wise, pointy-eared, race of people with cool powers.

LOTR: features a band of mortals making their way across middle-earth, many races from many lands, helped by the occasion Elf comrade: a tall, wise, pointy-eared race of people with cool powers.

Trekkies: Learn and fluently speak imaginary languages (for instance, Klingon)

Ringers: Learn and fluently speak imaginary languages (for instance, Elvish)

Star Trek: features a variety of different races and beings, with different powers and abilities.

LOTR: yeah, that too.

Trekkies: Wait outside theaters for hours, dressing up as their favorite characters for fun.

Ringers: yeah, that too.

Star Trek: has a prime directive.

LOTR: Well, yeah

Trekkies: Can quote their favorite episodes (and the movies) line for line, and can name even the minorest of characters.

Ringers: Can quote the movies line for line and can name even the obscurest of characters (where WAS Gil-Galad? I know.)

LOTR: one of the worst enemies used an unnatural means for creating a race of mindless killing machines (uruk-hai)

Star Trek: one of the worst enemies used unnatural means to create mindless assimilating machines (the Borg).

LOTR: Every once in a while a race of immortal beings with extraordinary powers will step in and help (or sometimes confuse and irritate) the people, all for the progressing of the greater good of everything (Istari, wizards).

Star Trek: Remember Q?

At this point I had to stop, as my world was ready to cave in all around me. Up was down, black was white, the world ceased to make sense! Of course, it did help when I came down off the three bags of fruit leathers and got out of the washing machine, but still! Dang!

there are four lights!

I guess we fanatics, we’re really not so different after all. Maybe one day we can live in peace: the Ringers, the Trekkies, the Star Wars fans, the Bean stalkers, the Bruce Campbell fans…

Mmmm…perfect world. Except those darn Fanilows. Seriously, who cares what they think.

I’ve made up my mind - all I want for Christmas this year is a single coin. Nothing more, just this simple Canadian gold coin:

OK, so maybe it’s not so simple, and I’m not sure how you’re going to get it to me. This giant Canadian coin, recently released by the Canadian Royal Mint, measures almost two feet across, weighs over 250 pounds, and is worth almost twice its $1 Million Canadian face value. via Reuters

But if you’re going to ask for just one thing, might as well make it big, right?

When a whopping 3 out of 6 comments demand…well, request…well…allow…EVEN MORE LOLCATS, who am I to stand in the way of this deafening permission? I don’t think I can! So here you go, even more from the “INVISIBLE _____” LOLcats running gag (out of my personal collection):

kitty gives high five to more lolpics for the price of less lolpics!

One of my all-time favorites:

They should form a band:

And, to end this installment of Loltardation:

My lovely wife was out of wine this evening. That in itself is not bad, but I was just about out of beer. Wisely, I volunteered to make a quick run down to the local grocery store, and axed if anyone else needed anything. My kids spoke up. They wanted those fruit things. You know. Sticky fruit things. “Fruit Leathers?” I asked, and the correct answer bells went off all over the house. Even the cat jumped up and ran outside to where cats belong.

So I went down to the local market, looking for fruit leathers, figuring that they must be somewhere between the canned artichoke hearts and the Liquid Plumber. I wandered for a while until a worker bee, who didn’t know what fruit leathers were either, directed me to the “ethnic aisle”. No one in California knows what fruit leathers are unless they have already made their peace with God and spend a lot of their time reminiscing about street cars and people named Walter.

I found the aisle. I found dried mango slices. Good enough, I thought, until I found a bag of things right next to them labeled “IGDE PSHAT”.

I arrived at the checkout stand with a bottle of wine, some cheap beer, dehydrated mango slices, and a bag of Igde Pshat, and NO ONE questioned me. Spooky.

I later found out that they knew something I had completely glossed over. Igde Pshat has almost no nutrients, but it tastes pretty good. One serving is listed as eight of the little roach-sized buggers, according to the label.

Eating eight gives you all the 29 grams of sugar you need to live another four days. If you eat 57, you might as well stay on the potty until noon, and consider the risk of diabetes. Eat 80 and you have your daily carbs, and you’re sugar-wired. If you eat 400 daily, all your calcium and iron is accounted for, too, and you’ll live to the ripe old age of 37.

IS THIS THE PERFECT SNACK FOOD, OR WHAT? No significant nutritional value, it’s grown in third world countries, tastes good, and it’s cheaper than dried mango. And no, it doesn’t taste like Pshat.

In response to Karen’s lolcat post, I thought I’d share what is undisputedly the best lolcat ever.

Right? And since we all have that strange curiosity when it comes to failure, here’s a hilarious collection of some of the most poorly executed movie moments I’ve ever seen. Because that’s what logically follows after seeing a picture like the one above.

The Worst Movies Ever:

FAIL.

Sweet - Halloween is still five months away and I’ve found my costume. Any bets on how long I could make it before getting beaten up? via Electric Escape

Good times, good times. Finals are over, and summer has begun. And, aside from the untimely death of my fish, Gill-Galad, and the purchasing of his (somewhat ugly) replacement, Monet, it’s been a pretty good beginning. My last day of work at my thrift store job is Saturday, and my first day of work at the factory for summer money begins in a week.

I’ll miss that job, but I won’t miss the music. My manager only let me play the local Christian radio station, despite my attempts to bring in other, equally appropriate, but better, music (like, classical stuff, ABBA (shut up, they’re wonderful), They Might Be Giants, Josh Groban….) but no. She’d catch me, and turn it back to CONTEMPORARY CHRISTIAN MUSIC SAFE FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY ALL DAY LONG.

Now, far be it from me to rag too hard on Christian music…but nowadays, the artists seem to have realized that it’s not that hard a job. Christian music fans will accept anything that has the name Jesus, the word “holy” or a reference to church in it, even if it is unoriginal, sounds bad, or is a grammatical nightmare (I once heard a song that used the phrase “you saved myself from me” just so it could rhyme “me” with “street.” Come on!) Frankly, Christian artists seem to have stopped trying, and it’s not like their fans have given them a reason not to.

There is one song in particular that played at least three times an hour…probably the worst Christian song I’ve ever heard, and I don’t mean worst song that is Christian, I mean worst song that can ever claim to have Christian foundations. Seriously. It’s called “Wherever We Go,” and it’s by a group called the Newsboys (so Google tells me), and they’ve pretty much given up on trying to be anything like any good, if this song serves as their talent compass.

I’d post the song if I could find it, but here are the lyrics, just to give you a taste…

Wherever we go, the bluebirds sing
And the flowers bloom
And the grass gets green
It’s a curious thing
But it’s just our thing

Okay, okay, let me stop them there for a moment. Are the Newsboys Persephone?

Wherever we go, the bees behave
In the treetops, squirrels smile and wave
It’s a curious thing
And it’s humbling

Wait, wait, what? What? They just spent two stanzas totally bragging on how magical their powers of arrival are, and that makes them humble? Do they know the definition of the word humble? Newsboys: “humble” is not a synonym for “huge ego trip.”

I think they got so lost in how wonderful they are, they forgot they’re supposed to be a Christian band, and had to throw in the humbling bit so they didn’t blow their cover. But then, they kept singing….

[bridge]
Where we go, little glow-worms glow
Little roadrunners run ahead
Gonna tell their friends
Little mice, little men
Get ‘em all excited
All invited

HANDS UP
HOLLER BACK HERE
LET’S THROW THIS PARTY IN GEAR
WE BROUGHT THE WELCOME MAT
WHEREVER WE GO, THAT’S WHERE THE PARTY’S AT

Hokay, hokay, wait, wait, wait. Holler back? Holler back. Seriously? Well, you heard the boys, holler back! And holler back here, because, apparently, this party is in an inappropriate gear, and needs to be thrown into the correct one!

holla’ back

They’ve brought the welcome mat! As you already undoubtedly know, a real party must have a welcome mat. If only I could count the times I’ve arrived at a friend’s house for a party, found there to be no welcome mat, and simply turned and walked away. Psh.

Also, before I continue, take care to notice the humbled tone of the lyrics.

HANDS UP
HOLLER BACK NOW
WE DON’T CLAIM ANY KNOW-HOW
WE’RE GIVING GOD ALL THAT
WHEREVER WE GO, THAT’S WHERE THE PARTY’S AT

There they go again! You must not have hollered back sufficiently, because they demand it again, and this time, they mean now, not just here. They require a holler back both here, and now. They are unsatisfied with less than immediate holler back gratification. Also, I love the “we’re giving God all that,” as if this one line (and it is the only line in the whole song with any reference to any deity outside their own miraculous selves, I might mention) made up for the fact that this whole song is just stroke, stroke, strokin’ away at that enormous ego they’re sportin’. I’m pretty sure it’s canceled out by the next line “wherever we go, that’s where the party’s at.” Where its AT, folks! AT! Not is, no sir! They be too marvelous for that! At!

And they claim no know-how! They just work their miracles and have no clue how. They’re just that amazing.

I’ll spare you the rest, but it’s about a million more verses in which “dumb get wise,” “bullies make nice,” and–get this “the ozone layer shows improvement.” I can’t even make this stuff up! These people are educators, councilors, and environmentalists…just by showing up! Oh, but right…they’re giving God “all that.” What ever “all that” is. Perhaps “all that” is located with them, where the party’s at.

And the thing is, people listen to this stuff all day long, then come to me and tell me that the Yin-Yang image on a pillow we were selling is a demonic symbol. I’m just saying the Newsboys seem to be on the verge of founding a religion all about themselves, and are luring innocent radio-listeners into their pseudo-Christian trap, and meanwhile the unsuspecting victims are busy not being able to difference between a pentagram and a yin-yang. We are assuredly doomed.

Special thanks to Sing365 for the lyric look-up.

Holla’ back.