And an other musical story for today: It is hard to believe that the Pentagon website contains this surprisingly un-PC sub-section listing of some more obscure WMD's (Weapons of Mass Destruction): The following is a list of more obscure forms of domestic "Band" Weapons of Mass Destruction. These are the most insidious and dangerous weapons of all. To the common layperson, they appear innocuous and non-lethal, but in the right hands, they present a threat of incalculable proportions. Please read the following and heed all precautions therewith. PICCOLO: the minute dimensions of this weapon make it especially lethal as it is easily concealed and can be set off just about anywhere. As a solo weapon, this device emits a high-pitched squeal that directly targets the inner ear. The application of this tone temporarily disorients its intended victim rendering him unable to react. The natural reaction of covering one's ears to reduce the intense pain causes military personnel within a 100 yard radius to drop their weapons leaving them defenseless to further attack. Applied in concert with a second piccolo of slightly higher or lower pitch, the weapons produce the effect of an ice pick through the eardrum and may cause profuse bleeding of the aural cavity. These weapons are constructed in three forms; metal, composite materials, wood, or any combination of the three. The all-metal piccolos are especially lethal. The only countermeasure to this weapon is to apply psychological warfare in the following manner. Compliment the musician on her: clothes/hair/shoes. This will distract the musician(s) from emitting her deadly tones and cause her to gab endlessly about herself. This in itself takes us to another problem man has dealt with for a thousand years and to which there is no antidote. Good Luck! FLUTE: Slightly less effective as the piccolo but still nothing to be trifled with. The flute possesses the same destructive qualities as the piccolo but is required in greater numbers to do so. Sixth and seventh grade females are especially effective with this weapon and are to be approached with extreme caution. OBOE: This weapon may appear harmless at first sight. The instrument's stealth qualities lure its intended victims into a false state of security, and then hit them without mercy. The oboe itself is a harmless composite or wooden conical tube. Once the ordnance (reed) is inserted, it is a weapon of tremendous power. One comforting factor is that the oboe is only as dangerous as the musician who wields it. At first glance, the operator of the oboe appears sweet, demure, and quite approachable. Do not be fooled by this deception. The oboist is actually a very high strung and temperamental foe. This mania is caused by the perpetual search for the perfect reed, which we all know doesn't exist. Those who play on plastic reeds are the bottom dwellers of the oboe world and are especially dangerous. The oboe is capable of producing a tone of laser-like quality. The sheer capabilities of volume produced can overpower an entire concert band. The resulting backpressure produced by over blowing has a two-way effect. It allows the musician to play seemingly forever on one breath resulting in sympathetic vibrations causing bulletproof glass and diamonds to shatter into deadly flying shards. The warning signs of impending doom occur when the musician raises the body of the instrument to her mouth to blow dust from under a key. This is how the weapon is cocked. If you ever see an oboist do this, run for cover my friend, for all Hell is about to break loose. The second effect of this weapon's backpressure is to cause its owner to eventually go insane. On rare occasions an oboist's head has been known to explode while firing their weapon. The only countermeasure to this weapon is to remove and professionally destroy the ordnance (reed). Doing so will also incur the wrath of its owner, so use extreme caution. The first master of the oboe as a weapon was Melvin "Schwartz" (Oklahoma All-State Band 1982), name changed to protect the guilty. He single handedly destroyed a performance of the Howard Hanson Romantic Symphony Finale under McBeth with his laser-like tones and inconsistent attacks. To this day, he has a bounty on his head and was last seen tending bar in Tijuana. Eb CLARINET: The Eb clarinet is the Tasmanian Devil of the woodwind family. Entirely uncontrollable and unpredictable, its blunderbuss like emissions can occur without warning. It is as much a danger to its owner as it is to the intended victim. For this reason the Eb clarinet is not in wide use today and only used by highly trained professionals and circus band daredevils. Bb CLARINET: As the flute is to the piccolo, the Bb Clarinet is to the Eb Clarinet. The only time a Bb clarinet is considered truly dangerous is in the hands of a saxophonist doubling on clarinet. His seemingly lacking ability to adjust his air to the clarinet causes a tone so forced and horrific that decorum prevents me from continuing. ALTO, BASS, CONTRA BASS CLARINET: The Scud missiles of the clarinet family. Considered low-grade weapons, these clarinets are of limited lethality due to the extreme geekiness of their operators. BASSOON: This is a weapon designed to start wars. Used primarily indoors, this weapon's unique tone can cause great embarrassment in social situations. Also known as the "farting bed post" the bassoonist will hide behind a set of curtains at an official state dinner or similar function. With the help of a diplomatic operative during the meal, the intermittent flatulent tones emitted by the bassoon can be blamed on certain visiting high government officials, causing great embarrassment and the possible beginning of hostilities between two countries. The best countermeasure to the bassoon involves lighter fluid and matches (you fill in the blanks). SOPRANO SAXOPHONE: (See Kenny G) AHHHHHHHHHRGHHH!!!!! ALTO SAX: Originally invented by Adolph Sax as the result of an evening of much cheap wine and a dare by a drunken horn player, the instrument he produced is neither brass nor woodwind. The only intended victim of this vile weapon is the concert band French horn player. Nothing is worse than hearing a great brass lick only to be obscured by the overly reedy tone and wobbly "vibrato" of some half crazed alto sax doubling the horns and overplaying them. Composers and arrangers are to blame as much as the alto players. Older players unable to temper their 1940's swing band vibrato are also a danger. The only counter measure is to question their manhood by daring the player to play Charlie Parker's "Donna Lee" at 230 beats per minute. That should shut 'em up! TENOR SAX: (See Alto Sax) Counter measure, throw down the gauntlet with a dare to render John Coltrane's "Giant Steps". BARITONE SAX: A tenor or alto wannabe, this instrument is flaccid and harmless unless played in the style of Stephen "Doc" Kupka (Tower of Power). His sporadic well placed grunting and punctuated style, when discovered by young players, can cause discomfort among the average school director. The only counter measure to this is self-medication by the teacher in the form of tequila shots or similar substances. TRUMPET: Obviously one would think that a trumpeter's greatest weapon is his ability to play high notes at great volume. This misconception has been perpetuated unwittingly by great performers like Maynard Ferguson and Dizzy Gillespie. The danger is not in the player who can play high. The danger lies in the player who THINKS he can play high. A young player's incessant caterwauling and inflated ego are a danger to himself and all those around him. The most effective counter measure is to allow the player to continue his high note practice (even encourage him to go higher and louder) until his lips explode or he cracks a tooth jamming his face into the mouthpiece. FRENCH HORN: French horns thankfully are a danger only to a small group of people, as their bells point in the wrong direction. They are only a danger to those unfortunate enough to have to sit behind them. Their intonation problems and constant cracking of pitches is of great annoyance to those brass players sitting behind them. Though lately the introduction of Plexiglas reflectors has reduced the danger to those behind the horns, unfortunately it presents a greater danger to the players themselves and those in front of them. Upon hearing their actual tones coming back at them, some hornists have been known to actually vomit on stage due to the hideousness of their own tone. TROMBONE: A unique application, the instrument itself is not the real danger. The person playing the instrument is what is truly dangerous. The trombone and its player are the original "smart bomb." This weapon is most effective in high tech warfare areas. Insertion of one or more trombonists into a warfare computer center instantly lowers the aggregate I.Q. in the room. The trombonist's incredible stupidity is a lethal bio weapon that spreads at an incredible rate. Within 5 minutes of exposure, all computer operators within a 50-foot radius are reduced to drooling idiots incapable of the simplest motor functions and bowel control. Use of trombonists as weapons was outlawed by the Geneva Convention in 1999 after an ugly incident at a Dixieland convention in Sacramento. BARITONE/EUPHONIUM: This is a weapon of mass confusion. Euphonium players are the Rodney Dangerfields of the brass world. Young players especially don't know their place in the band. They double French horns, trombones, saxophones, tubas in octaves, bass clarinets, bassoons...yadda, yadda, yadda! Euphonium orchestral parts are played by the second trombone or worse, the tuba player! For this reason most euphonium.........baritone...(WHATEVER!) players resort to doubling on trombone. This is when they become dangerous. (See trombone.) TUBA: This is a sonic weapon that when set off can produce sub sonic tones causing a general feeling of uneasiness and queasiness to those within its effective range. In addition, one may attach a sousaphone to a marching column of soldiers. As all tubists drag, the ever-slowing performance of um-pahs will eventually reduce the marching soldiers to a snail's pace causing them to be late for a battle or not arrive at all. The most effective countermeasure is to feed the tubist with great quantities of beer (imports if you have them). It won't improve his playing but makes him more enjoyable to be around. SNARE DRUM/TRAP SET: This weapon affects only a very small demographic: teenage girls and the fathers of these girls with steady jobs and liquid bank accounts. The snare drummer and the jazz/rock variety of set player act almost like a computer worm. The drummer will attach himself to an unsuspecting teenage girl and milk her and her father's finances in such a way as to not be noticed by the father until it is too late. Drummers are the leaches of the music world and can only be countered by being forced to get a real day job. This will reduce the drummer's "coolness" factor and the daughter will immediately lose interest.
So, it is not a good thing to be a drummer, you end up driving women away, that is very unique in its self, to hold such power in ones hands...beware, you engage this person at your own peril...
Aw heck Red red red red red red red red red red redneck Well the boys 'round here, they're keeping it country Ain't a damn one know how to do the dougie (You don't do the dougie?) No, not in Kentucky But these girls 'round here yep, they still love me Yeah, the girls 'round here, they all deserve a whistle Shakin' that sugar, sweet as Dixie crystal They like that y'all and southern drawl And just can't help it cause they just keep fallin' For the boys 'round here Drinking that ice cold beer Talkin' 'bout girls, talkin' 'bout trucks Runnin' them red dirt roads out, kicking up dust The boys 'round here Sending up a prayer to the man upstairs Backwoods legit, don't take no shit Chew tobacco, chew tobacco, chew tobacco, spit Let me hear you say (Ooh let's ride) Through the country side (Ooh let's ride) Down to the river side (Ooh let's ride� Hey now girl, hop inside Me and you gonna take a little ride to the river Let's ride (That's right) Lay a blanket on the ground Kissing and the crickets is the only sound We out of town (Let's ride) Have you ever got down with a� Red red red red red red red red red red redneck? And do you wanna get down with a� Red red red red red red red red red red redneck? Girl you gotta get down With the boys 'round here Drinking that ice cold beer Talkin' 'bout girls, talkin' 'bout trucks Runnin' them red dirt roads out, kicking up dust The boys 'round here Sending up a prayer to the man upstairs Backwoods legit, don't take no shit Chew tobacco, chew tobacco, chew tobacco, spit (Ooh let's ride) Red red red red red red red red redneck (Ooh let's ride) I'm one of them boys 'round here (Ooh let's ride) Red red red red red red red red redneck (Ooh let's ride) (Ooh let's ride� Well all I'm thinkin' 'bout is you and me, how we'll be So come on girl, hop inside Me and you, we're gonna take a little ride Lay a blanket on the ground Kissing and the crickets is the only sound We out of town Girl you gotta get down with a� Come on through the country side Down to the river side
James this transliteration is also brilliant. It makes one see popular songs in a new light. Where do you come up with these fantastic versions? Are they your own creations? Congratulations for either making or finding them.
I find them, that is a song by Blake Sheldon...
When the mood strikes me, I think of a song that seems fitting at the time...
Come on cowboys and cowgirls It's time to party Discount box wine Burning like turpentine Anything to get us buzzed We got six strings G-strings Pawn shop bling bling Raising hell just because Even old grannies gettin' chatty and batty On Pappy's apple pie Moonshine I don't know what you're expecting But buddy if you're betting I'd be betting on a hell of a time Cause you know we're gonna party like cowboys Whoop out the big toys Pour on the gasoline Put some fire on the fuses We're about to do this Pumped on adrenalin We're getting jackety jacked up Beer backed and doubled up Stand up and make some noise We're gonna party like cowboyz Some girls are getting flirty And some are dancing dirty The country girls are coming alive Some guys are rocking And some dudes are socking And gonna have to take it outside Two-for-ones are going The pyro is blowing The whole place is coming unwound The roof is raisin The whole place is shakin And we're just getting started now Cause you know we're gonna party like cowboys Whoop out the big toys Pour on the gasoline Put some fire on the fuses We're about to do this Pumped on adrenalin We're getting jackety jacked up Beer backed and doubled up Stand up and make some noise We're gonna party like cowboyz Feeling kinda Tonto Riding on a pinto Screaming across the wide open range Got fire for a saddle Make the red dirt rattle Cause I'm riding on a trail of flames She's a beautiful thing She goes so fast Kicks a jet plan's ass And dang I love them footloosin ways Like a bullet in a cage Make a cowboy rage If I ever get to ride that hottie with a brain We're getting jackety jacked up Beer backed and doubled up Stand up and make some noise We're gonna party like cowboyz Yea we're gonna whoop out the big toys Pour on the gasoline (Gonna party like cowboyz) Put some fire on the fuses We're 'bout to do this Pumped on adrenaline (Gonna party like cowboyz) Gettin jackety jacked up Beer backed and doubled up Come on and make some noise (Gonna party like cowboyz) We're gonna party like cowboyz (I'm a cowboy baby) I'm a cowboy
I don't recognize this song. Is it Clapton?
No, it is fairly new by Big and Rich, country singers...
"Tattoos On This Town" Theres still black marks on that county road, Where we drag raced our pick-ups and Mustangs And weathered all the sun and rain. And to this day up on that overpass, Even underneath the new paint, you can still see "Allie, will you marry me?" Take a ride, look around There aint no doubt It sure left its mark on us, we sure left our mark on it We let the world know we were here with everything we did We laid a lot of memories down, like tattoos on this town Theres still a rope burn on that old branch, that hangs over the river. I still got the scar From swinging out a little too far. There aint a corner of this hallow ground, That we aint laughed or cried on. Its where we loved, lived and learned real life stuff. Its everything we are made of. It sure left its mark on us, we sure left our mark on it We let the world know we were here with everything we did We laid a lot of memories down, like tattoos on this town Like tattoos on this town. Everywhere, there we are, It hits me right in my heart. It sure left its mark on us, we sure left our mark on it We let the world know we were here with everything we did We laid a lot of memories down, And we will always be hanging around, Like tattoos on this town Like tattoos on this town. By Jason Aldean
"Drink A Beer" When I got the news today I didn't know what to say. So I just hung up the phone. I took a walk to clear my head, This is where the walking led Can't believe you're really gone Don't feel like going home So I'm gonna set right here On the edge of this pier Watch the sunset disappear And drink a beer Funny how the good ones go Too soon, but the good Lord knows The reasons why, I guess Sometimes the greater plan Is kinda hard to understand Right now it don't make sense I can't make it all make sense So I'm gonna set right here On the edge of this pier Watch the sunset disappear And drink a beer So long my friend Until we meet again I'll remember you And all the times that we used to... ... set right here on the edge of this pier And watch the sunset disappear And drink a beer Drink a beer, Drink a beer. Yeah By Luke Bryan
Hammer and a nail, stacking them bales I'm dog tired by the 5:00 hour but I'm ready to raise some hell And Jess is getting ready, I'm gassing up the Chevy, I'm gonna pick her up at six I hope she's gonna wear the jeans with the tear that her mama never fixed. The moon comes up and the sun goes down We find a little spot on the edge of town Twist off, sip a little, pass it around Dance in the dust, turn the radio up That fireball whiskey whispers Temptation in my ear It's a feelin' alright saturday night And that's how we do it round here Yeah that's how we do it round here Mud on the grips, wild cherry on her lips I've been working and trying and flirting and dying For an all night kinda kiss Country on the boombox, candles on the tool box, I'm doing everything right, got the country boy charm Turned all the way on tonight Yeah the moon comes up and the sun goes down We find a little spot on the edge of town Twist off, sip a little, pass it around Dance in the dust, turn the radio up That fireball whiskey whispers temptation in my ear It's a feelin' alright saturday night And that's how we do it round here Yeah that's how we do it round here Yeah the moon comes up and the sun goes down We find a little spot on the edge of town Twist off, sip a little, pass it around Dance in the dust, turn the radio up That fireball whiskey whispers Temptation in my ear It's a feelin' alright saturday night And that's how we do it round here Yeah that's how we do it round here Yeah that's how we do it round here Yeah that's how we do it round here. by Florida Georgia Line
That is good. Now we need an other drinking song to deride NEKNOMINATION!
I would not go as far as that @zaphod, first of all, the clientel that visit our pages are not going to nominate someone to do a dare of drinking themselves into oblivion...
I meant a song to DERIDE it. I agree with you that the trend is dangerous, but a humorous song about it might make some think twice before engaging in it.
Here is the thread for just such a song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJK_NEVuzwA
"Little White Church" You have been singing, that same old song Far too long,far too long Say you will buy me a shiny ring But your words dont mean a thing No more calling me baby No more loving like crazy you take me down (take me down) You better take me down (take me down) Take me down to the little white church Take me down (take me down) Take me down (take me down) Take me down to the little white church Take me down.... You cant ride this gravy train, anymore,anyway There is a price for keeping me I might be cheap, but I aint free Now more calling me baby No more loving like crazy Come on! Charming devil, silver tongue Had your fun, now you are done Mama warned me bout your games She dont like you anyways No more calling me baby No more loving like crazy No more chicken and gravy I aint gonna have your baby! Take me down to the little white church, take me down, Take me down, take me down to the little white church, take me down, take me down, take me down, take me down to the little white church, take me down to the little white church, take me down to the little white church
BBC 6 Music.
I love Lorde and Avril Lavigne! My two favorite songs are "Glory and Gore" by Lorde and "Alice" by Avril Lavigne!