Dick

Well, here's my second blog of the week, and it's appropriate with the Sonic's trial ending today that some of the amended lyrics involve our friend Clay Bennett. Enjoy.

Dick

by Winlar + GT

©2007

The Sign there on the freeway

Says soon the left lane ends

So you should merge right over

But no, not you my friend!

You cruise past everybody

Then cut back in real quick

Because you deserve to cut in line

Cuz’ you’re a dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

You’re a dick dick dick dick dick dick dick.

You went and pulled me over

For an extra mile an hour or two

That’s how you save humanity

You shining knight in blue!

You could give me a warning

And not write up the tick-et

But we know that won’t happen because you…..

You’re a dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

You’re a dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

Bridge:

It’s self-important folks like you

Who make society work

So what if other people think

You’re a big dumb fucking jerk?

You just keep looking out for number one

The way you always do

That’s right Tim Eyman, I’m talkin’ to you….

You dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

You dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

You think the national anthem

Is the white folks property

And singin' it in Mexican

Makes you all vomity

It's an insult to your heritage
An outrage and a ploy

Yeah, you're a credit to your race there

European boy!

You racist Dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

You used your wealth and power

To pass upper class tax cuts

Yeah that’s just what this country needs!

No ifs ands or buts

Don’t mind it leaves our children

With a big ol’ deficit

What matters is you’re looking out for you…

Republican dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

You dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

Bridge 2:

Thanks for acting only out of self-interest and greed

Leaving messes to clean up for all us non-dickweeds

You know that you are number one and we’re all number two

Cheney, Rumsfeld, Boenner, Bush, Alito, Roberts, Frist, Delay,We're talkin’ to you

dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

Well you wanna move our Sonics
Down to Oklahoma City

But first you'll hold the town for ransom

No, that isn't shitty

Just take away our passion

And our loyalty and cheers

You don't owe us a damned thing after

Forty fuckin' years!\

Clay Bennett's a dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

A lullabye

Hey, I know, I missed my blog last week, so I'm going to try to pick up and put two on this week. But if you're really starving for some Winlar, check out www.reverbnation.com/winlar and you can listen to Winlar MP3's and become a "fan."

Anyway, an oldie but a goodie this week. Enjoy.

Hungover in Heaven

Hung Over in Heaven
By Winlar + GT
2007
winlar@winlar.net

Asus D
I been after you girl for so long now
Asus D
And last night I got you, still not sure how
G D
I know we went out and we had a few drinks
A
And what happened next, well I just can’t think

But now I’ve awakened and right here you are
Still smelling a bit like the floor of the bar
I see that we’ve slept in ‘til well past eleven
A (then tacit)
It’s like I’m hung-over in heaven

I’ve dreamed of this night, and of this morning
I wasn’t prepared though as my only warning
Was when you were dancing to show off your charms
And fell off of the table and into my arms

Then we staggered up my stairs and down the hall
Driven by love, fate, and grain alcohol
Hearts heads and stomachs so furiously revvin’
It’s like I’m hung-over in heaven


(Bridge)
G D
If there’d been other bars not just yet closed
G D
Then maybe to my place you were not disposed
G D
I’d tried so before, but was always rebuked
A
Then you let me hold your hair back while you puked (Ahhhh)

Asus D
And finally you came to me that perfect night
Asus D
You got my name wrong but the rest was so right
G D
Why baby why d’you keep calling me “Kevin?”
A
It’s like I’m hung-over in heaven

So baby, let’s just lie in bed all the day
Now that you’ve finally proof I’m not gay
I’ll make you breakfast, an omelet and bacon
As my little thank you for love we’ve been makin’

Let’s stay here at my place, away from other men
And drink, baby, drink ‘til you love me again
Straight shots to our hearts. About 27
Let’s not get sober in heaven

Why Obama Won

So, Barack Obama is our nominee. How did this happen? Can it be explained? Pundits will be discussing this one for a long time or at least until Brittany goes clubbing without panties again. So I thought I’d toss in my two-cents, which may not be well founded, or well explained, or by any standards grammatically correct but they have the advantage of being right.

Here’s what it boils down to:

The reason Obama won?

Obama has It.

That simple.

Don’t ask me to tell you what It is, because obviously if I could call it anything else I wouldn’t have to call it It, but Barack has It. Napoleon had It. FDR had It. JFK had It. Hell, Bill Clinton had It. Barack’s got it too and by it I mean It. You just watch him and you know. He was either born with, inherited, bought, or was infected by It, whatever, but It’s all over him. It the man has.

Hillary, on the other hand, does not have It. I’m sorry. She has a lot of things but she doesn’t have It. She didn’t have It in Iowa, she doesn’t have It now. She’s been desperately trying to get It, or at least rent It for a while, but she ain’t got It, and I doubt she’ll ever have It.

What she has is much more like Anti-It. She has negative It. She sucks the It out of other people. That’s how she’s stayed in the race so long. She’s been sucking the It out of Obama and that’s kept him from overwhelming us with his
Itness. She’s become an It sucking machine. It was a good strategy, but in the end, Obama just had more It than she could neutralize. Basic It physics.

That’s why she and Bill have a good marriage. (I know, you just spat out your drink reading that, but let me explain.) He’s got It, she’s got Anti-It and they thus form an It symbiosis. Perhaps the It and the Anti-It meet and annihilate each other like matter and anti-matter giving the couple a warp-drive like energy which has fueled their political ambitions to these lofty heights at speeds faster than light. I don’t know. We’re in the realm of pure speculation here and to attempt to fathom it further I’d need another six-pack.

Most political races boil down to just that. It versus Anti-It and It usually wins, at least in this political universe under these gravitational laws. That’s too bad for Hillary on this one, but great news for an It starved nation.

So will Obama win in November? Well, suffice it to say that John McCain can’t even spell It. He couldn’t hit It if It were water and he fell out of a boat. He probably doesn’t even know that there’s such a thing as It. He avoids It as if he were playing a game of tag. Etcetera, etcetera.

So yes, I’m feeling pretty good about this election campaign.

Viva la It.

--Winlar

Not as Think as you Drunk I am

Not as Think as you Drunk I am
By Winlar™ and GT
©2007
winlar@winlar.net

It’s been a wonderful party
And now things are windin’ down
But I can see what you’re up to gal
Yeah I’m a been who’s guyed around

You think I’m just a little slit boshed
And you can have your way with me!!
But I got a surprise for you there babe
As you shall soon see

(Chorus)

I’m not as think as you drunk I am
I ain’t beer that much had
I can still straight up tall and stand
No, I ain’t tooin’ do bad!
I’m still thinking bell as a clear
I’m just as tack as a sharp my dear.
So don’t you natronprize me there ma’am
I’m not as think as you drunk I am

(Bridge)
I’m not so confused
It’s all a clever ruse
And since I can’t seem to keys my place
Why don’t we make out?
You’ll see it’s just a fake-out
I ain’t even close to fit-shaced.

I know you’re getting all worked up
Listnin’ to my silophosie
You’re thinking, “man, he can hold his liquor
Gosh I wish he was holding me!”
How can a man put ‘em back like I do
And not get remotely ripped
I can drink all the booze I want
If I just take tiny sips

(Chorus)

(Bridge 2)
Oh, I may speak queerly
But I can see clearly
Through my whatsome intoxicated eyes
Please don’t demean this
I really really mean this
When I say I really love you guys.
No. No. I REALLY love you guys
NO! I REALLY LOVE YOU GUYS!

I’ve seen the way that I look at you
Your eyes literally shout it
You think that I’m in the state I’m in
And you might do someone adoubt it
You think I’m she treats to the wind
And tonight just might be your night
Well I got sad news for you there babe!
…you’re probably right…

(Yeah, you’re probably right…)

(Chorus)

I gotta few brain cells too many....

This week's song seems apropos, as a comment on Hillary's assault on mathematics. The Clinton campaign's "We've received more popular votes" nonsense is an affront to common sense and clear thinking everywhere. Hillary, you know we love you, but the fact is that Obama is ahead by half a million votes. Check out this very informative link:
http://www.realclearpolitics.com/epolls/2008/president/democratic_vote_count.html\
(Please forward that link to everyone you know in the interest in getting the unspun truth out.)

To keep repeating this obviously fraudulent claim goes well beyond spin and into blatant outright lie territory. Worse is that members of the mainstream media have picked up on it, and keep repeating this fabrication of logic. Shame shame shame.

As a Washingtonian, what galls me most is that with her slanted statistics Hillary not only throws out my state's unpublished caucus results, but also doesn't count our somewhat pointless but still official state primary! Obama beat her ass two times up here on the west coast of western civilization yet she chooses to ignore both in her anti-logic. She's ignoring the voters of my state TWICE!

Here's a thought. You say you're fit to be president? Well start ACTING PRESIDENTIAL for crying out loud. Presidents need to level with the public, shouldn't try to make lies true by repeating them, and can't change the laws of arithmetic when it's convenient. No wonder you're losing among the college educated and those who have the unfortunate habit of "paying attention."

So anyway, it hurts my educated brain. So here's a song about that:

Few Brain Cells Too Many
By Winlar + GT
2008
winlar@winlar.net

I’ve been trying to follow politics, and it just hurts my head
It fills me with confusion, migraines, angst and fear and dread
When I try to get my head around what's happenin' it hurts me
So I went to see a doctor, who came up with a remedy

He said what I got goin' wrong up there, what’s making me morose
Is unlike the average American, I'm followin' things too close
It’s not whatI don’t understand it’s that I understand too well
And that’s caused by these growths in my skull-ular region that the medicos call “brain cells”

So he gave me an easy prescription that I’m quite anxious to try
I got a few brain cells too many. I gotta make them go bye bye!

The doc could tell me right away, why politics make me hurl
I got an NPR type mind you see, and it’s an MTV type world
And that's why I'm not gettin' this thing called "Democracy"
It's being run by folks who watch reality TV

VH1 and C-SPAN both make more sense when you’re high
Got a few brain cells too many, gotta make them go bye-bye

Bridge

Now, The preferred way to kill brain cells is banging your head on the wall
Or just watch the State of the Union Address, and that should pretty much take care of them all
But I’ve got a plan that’s much more fun, and just might work a little quicker
Those brain cells think that they’re so smart, let’s see if they can handle their liquor!

Let’s see if they can stand up to the whiskey and the rye
Got a few brain cells too many.
Gotta make them go bye bye

And now I'm fittin' right in, I'm following everything to the letter
Sure the country and my liver may be going to hell, but my attitude couldn't be better
Now, me and the American public, we got but three brain cells between us
What else explains a land where Karl Rove is considered a genius?

It’s time for my medication, so here’s mud in yer’ eye
I got a few brain cells too many, I’m gonna make them go bye-bye!

Tater Tots

Girl you left me
Made me blue
I cried all the way through the drive-thru
And at the window
Destiny
A reminder how things could be
Golden brown
Cylindrical
Potato magic so wonderful
They came to me
Sizzling hot
Just like sex with you was not
(I had perspective on our relationship. And it goes something like this.)

(Chorus)
Girl you’re hot
I liked you quite a lot
But what you’re not
Is Tater tots
(Repeat)

Potato pieces
chopped up fine
And then rejoined a second time
Held together
By mystery
The way that love’s supposed to be
A magic bond
Thicker than blood
Between reconstituted spuds
Proof that our love
Was a lie
Inside a Taco time mexi-fry
(Girl, a fast-food side dish taught me more about love than you ever could)
(Chorus)

(Bridge)
Tater tots
From Taco time
Were once coated with spice and lime
But slowly as
Things came about
The spicy seasoning was fazed out
Much like immigrants
From Mexico
Often let their cultures go
In efforts to
Assimilate
Into these United States
(It’s very sad, this particular metaphor, but it is undeniable that tater tots and the American dream are quite delicious.)
(Chorus)

So girl we had
A lot of fun
But the tots tell me we’re done
They make feel
Comparatively great
When juxtaposed with our many dates
A simple tuber
Rightly fried
Can make me feel just as good inside
And here’s the really
Bitter part
I think they’re better for my heart
(Sorry Girl, the tots have spoken)

(Chorus)

What’s that girl? You want me back? Sorry girl, that ship has flown. Girl, you smell good. What’s that behind your back? Girl? Is that two large orders of TacoTime mexi-fries? One for you, and one for me? What? One and a half for me, and a half for you? Oh, you’re on a diet. Huh. Girl, I think I may just give you a second chance…

Girl I thought
I’d give you another shot
Because you brought
Some tater tots
(Repeat)

Nicotine Penis

Nicotine Penis
by Winlar & GT
©2000
winlar@winlar.net

I keep breaking up with you, boy
Can’t stand you one bit, but you’re so hard to quit
Each time we break up, yeah, it’s a safe bet
You’ll be back in my mouth like a cheap cigarette

Chorus:
Seems nothing can come between us
‘Cause you’ve got a nicotine penis
Each time I’m with you it leaves me so sad
Foul taste in my mouth and my breath it smells bad

But all of my plans to leave you Jack-o
They go up in smoke like so much tobacco
I try to stay away, I try to not date
But I get real, real cranky and gain lots of weight

(Chorus)

Bridge:
I’ve got to find another way
I’m into you three packs a day
This has gone way too far
After all a cigar is just a cigar
Just a cigar…

Even though you’re no great romancer
Your love eats away at my heart like a cancer
I’m like a victim in some sad fable
Love ought to come with a warning label

(Chorus)

So it’s no use, from good sense I’m evicted
Come to me, baby, I’m full on addicted
I’m all yours baby, please do not shun me
Take me away to flavor country

(Chorus)

Smoke 'em if you got 'em!

Just Lay There

Go Ahead and Just Lay There 4.0
By Winlar™ + GT
©2008
winlar@winlar.net

G,D,C, G,G,
When I hear guys talk about their wives, it takes me aback
Expecting so much all day, and then fireworks in the sack
But we have a partnership hon, when push comes to shove
And there’s more to a marriage than just epic-mind-blowing love
Because all the things you do by day shine like a beacon
You know there’s no need for you by night to get your freak on

I’m not like other men love,
I know how to play fair
For all you do for me darlin’
Go ahead and just lay there

When we lay together, do you know what makes me giddy?
Just thinkin’ bout how well you help clothe and feed our kiddies
So tonight I don’t need to see your sex skills blossom
And oh, I’ve got an appointment at seven tomorrow, so could you set the alarm, that’d be awesome.

We take care of business
That’s why we’re a great pair
For all you do for me darlin’
Go ahead and just lay there

(Bridge 1)
D C
You don’t need to go down
G D
You don’t need to lube
D C G D
You don’t need to do any of those cool things I saw on YouTube
You don’t need to dress up
You don’t need to fuss D
You don’t need to invite over some of your friends who might be curious
G
Don’t sweat the boudoir baby
You don’t earn your pay there
For all you do for me darlin’
Go ahead and just lay there

So don’t sweat the fact that we don’t always make the bed creaky
I’ll look on the Internet if I really want to get freaky
Don’t fret the acrobatics and all that shaken your fanny
If I want superfluous stuff like that, there’s always the nanny

I’m so glad we hired
That college-aged Au pair
For all you do for me darlin’
Go ahead and just lay there.

The Age of Paranoia

OK, so I’m going to the Mariner’s game the other night, and I get stopped at security to look through my bag, and they won’t let me in because I had, as a key chain, a small Swiss army knife. I should have remembered that we are living in the Age of Paranoia, and that such small potentially pokey things are a no-no for sporting events, but come on. This is a Swiss Army Knife! It’s not a weapon. Even members of the Swiss Army don’t use them as weapons. Honestly, I think one of the gadgets on thing is a white flag. This particular Swiss army knife couldn’t cut butter. Yet they made me walk all the way back to my car, or throw it away. I walked, in a huff.

So I was preparing a scathing blog about how ridiculous stadium security is nowadays. (That’ll show ‘em!) I mean what’s more likely, getting stabbed to death with an implement better designed to open bottles of pinot grigio than combat, or being beaned by a 120mph line drive foul ball? -This being a baseball game I was banned from after all- I had a whole list of other things that are allowed into stadiums which are much more dangerous. (For instance: They allowed me to enter with a pen and paper on which I can write dangerous things like, “If someone won’t let you into a ball game because of your Swiss Army Knife, choke the living S*** out of them.”) Oh, it was going to be a devastating critique of the fearful, ridiculous, terrorist loathing times we live in and the lengths we go to for the artifice of safety, all of it premised by the fact that, come on, nobody’s ever been killed with a Swiss Army knife, at least nobody that you’ve ever heard of.

Then, at the last second, just to be on the safe side, I googled “Killed by a Swiss Army Knife” and what should turn up? Mark Fuhrman’s book on the OJ Simpson case! Fuhrman speculates that the murder weapon wasn’t OJ’s hunting knife, but rather a Swiss Army Knife for which he'd found a box, but never the actual weapon. (Perhaps it was OJ’s key chain?) And with that, my blog premise was blown, and the devastating jokes therein ruined.

So I suppose I must concede this one to you, stadium security personnel. Your paranoia is justified. How can you know that I’m not a violence-prone former athlete and car rental agency spokesman? I guess my little combo bottle-opener, tweezers and toothpick could indeed be used lethally and treating me like a terrorist is perhaps the right thing to do.

But wouldn’t it just be easier to keep OJ out of the ballpark?

We Will Survive!

I'm going to try to have two posts this week, so do check back. But here's a little song from my last show with a nice message of hope after 7.5 years of misery.


Oh, and here are the lyrics:

We Will Survive
By Winlar™
©2008
winlar@winlar.net

First you got us scared, we were petrified
We thought that you would never lose with Karl Rove by your side
We spent so many nights thinking Democracy'd gone wrong
But we grew strong
Why can’t we all just get along?
We’re coming back
From your disgrace
No longer will we have to view that brain-dead look upon your face
We should have impeached your stupid cock
We should have kicked you out with glee
If only for your most disastrous
Foreign policy

Don’t get your ass
Hit by the door
You’re approval rating’s 30
No one’s listening anymore
You killed Al Gore and John Kerry with your lies
And politicized the memory
Of 4000 lost GI’s
Yet even so
We will survive
We’ve a thirst for liberty stronger than Bill Clinton’s sex drive
You say history will forgive
All your failed initiatives
What are you high?
But we’ll survive

(Ukulele solo!)

I’m surprised the bill of rights didn’t fall apart
As you built an empire like some two-bit Bonaparte
No more election nights
Feeling sorry for ourselves
You made Hillary cry!
But we didn’t lay down and die
Soon we’ll elect
Somebody new
Hell it may be a three-toed sloth
But that’d be better than you
And maybe we’ll get back our rights to free speech and privacy
And just maybe, once again we will be a democracy

Go USA
We will Survive
Oh I think from now on we’ll be the ones doin' the decidin'
We’re gonna get back a little thing called national pride
We’ll survive. Oh we’ll survive. USA!

The Rich Get Richer

I was planning on writing a whole thing this week, but I have a gig this Friday and that got time consuming, so instead here's another snippet from the show. Enjoy!

The Rich Get Richer
By Winlar and GT
2008
winlar@winlar.net

They say that in this life
There’s two guarantees
Death and Taxes
Everyone agrees
But two other things
To me seem more certain
Than paying dues to government
And drawing that final curtain
Death and taxes no, Two things have much more certitude
The rich get richer
And we get screwed

I called up my congressmen
Told him what I’d learned
Said I don’t mind the rich getting rich
But the second part has me concerned
He said don’t worry, he’s got just the solution
And that he’d get right on that if I gave him a contribution…
Here’s where I think you’d like to sing along with me too
The rich get richer…

In the eyes of congress
Two types of folks exist
Nobody, and those who can afford a lobbyist
If the poor have things so bad
Goes their summation
Why don’t they use their wealth, influence, and power
To change their situation?

I complained to the networks
Of beefs I had a litany
They said they’d get right to them
Once they’re done discussing Brittany
If you ain’t rich or pretty
The press will not heed ya’
That’s really weird, since
Liberals like me control the media
Here’s a little headline you won’t hear on cable news?
The Rich Get richer…

They tell me that it’s good for me this big supply-side con
But I don’t see much trickling down, I’m getting trickled on
A rising tide lifts all ships and will keep us afloat
Well that would give me solace
if I could afford a fucking boat!

Yet I’m still maybe thinkin’
Maybe It’s kinda strange
Maybe just maybe
Maybe all this can change
Maybe we’ll rise up and address the situation
Maybe we’ll reform things
Maybe we’ll change this nation
Maybe we’ll shake things up
Maybe who knows what?
And maybe flying pigs will just start rocketing out my butt
And you wonder why I have such attitude?
The rich get richer, and we get screwed