You know how when you drink, food sometimes tastes better, girls look hotter, sun feels warmer, pick-up lines feel smoother, and lake air feels…lakier?
On the same principle, when I get loaded, “Shanghai’d in Shanghai” is one of the greatest f’ing songs of all time. Sober Shanny gets it…and appreciates the song’s musical values (Nice Rolling Stones shout-out, Nazareth), but oh man, does drunk Shanny love the shit out of this jam! Inherently air-guitarable, the backup vocals is real easy to pick up on (and master), and it all wraps up in a tidy 3:41. Four minute super jam, yo!
Here’s what I need you to do: listen to this sucker. Then go drink yourself a couple of stiff bourbons, then come back, turn it up about 9dB, and listen to ‘er again. Then you just try and tell me I’m wrong about this (or anything, really). Good God, you’ll puke Rock and Roll, friendo.
I found my favourite eighth of a second in the video from my last post, and there’s a gif of it. Here it is. She could not be any more adorable if she wanted to. I also found her on twitter, but damned if I can remember any of that pesky “detail” when she’s at the top of my screen being adorable.
Alright kids, if you were wondering what the Summer Anthem for 2013 is going to be, here you go. As much as I hate to give credit to anything or anyone related to Alan Thicke, goddamn, that’s a hot track.
Also, as cool as the video is, the unrated version is far, far cooler and is exactly what the videos would look like if yours truly was a popstar (it’s also NSFW unless you work in a supercool workplace, like I do). Literally, every video: “Let’s just go with topless models and random props.”
I’d also get a tattoo that says, “Why Mess with Success?” in the event anyone questioned my decision making process. Nothing ends an argument quite as efficiently as a tattoo that’s apt to the conversation.
Brenda never forgot that date. Big Dave finally got the promotion from the quarry, and went immediately to see Barry at the Repo Depot to get the hot rod back. He then called her at Lorraine’s (no one is named Lorraine anymore, why is that?, told her to throw on “them brown Daisy Dukes,grab the Seger tape,” and to get ready, “cuz Baby, we’re eating at IHOP tonight!”
On short notice, this is the outfit she put together. It was nearly 90*F that afternoon…she regretted the turtleneck. But the extra time spent to get the volume in that hair was worth it. The waitress at the IHOP chewed her gum approvingly. The cop at the red light tipped his hat in that way that only old Irish cops can do it. They turned heads that day.
It was days later, at an innocent bush party, that the fumes from all the hairspray finally caught up with our girl.
The only thing anyone ever said was that “She made for a pretty bald girl…and looked good in the front seat.” And that was good enough for Big Dave,