Song parodies

Dear Loren…

It’s Friday, and I’ve had a bit of a sad week. I just found out that one of my beloved uncles may not be around for much longer. He is truly one of my favorite people, but I haven’t seen him since 2014, which is when Bill and I were last in the United States together. I had gone home to Virginia to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family and participate in a memorial service we had for my father, who died in July 2014, weeks before we left for Germany. My mom chose Thanksgiving as a good time for my dad’s memorial, since that’s when the annual family reunion is held.

My uncle had a stroke last week, and it has left him severely debilitated. I didn’t find out about the stroke until a few days after it happened. I found out about it on Facebook, courtesy of a friend of the family, rather from one of my actual family members. My cousin just posted that they’ve decided to give my uncle comfort measures and, I guess, let nature take its inevitable course. I don’t think it’s an unreasonable decision at all, but I am blue about it. Like I said… he’s one of my favorite people. His birthday is the day after mine. He has a witty sense of humor like mine. And like me, he loves making music, being in the mountains, and drinking beer (although he’s always stuck with Miller Lite).

But… I realize there’s nothing I can do about this situation from here. As sad as this is, death is a part of life for everyone– even the best people. So, instead of waxing poetic or praying for a miracle, I’ve decided to write about something I find quite funny.

I probably wrote about this guy on my old blog. I’ve just now done a cursory search to find out if I have, but Blogger is so wonky now, and won’t give me all possible results. I started writing my old blog in 2010, but if I search Blogger, I won’t get anything from before, oh, 2016 or so. It’s annoying, and I have over 3000 posts on that blog, which makes trying to find old stuff very difficult. So… if I have written about this before and it’s a rerun, I apologize. I just need a good laugh, for several reasons besides the impending death of a loved one.

Meet Ben Ryan Metzger. In fact, you may have already “met” him. I first became aware of him about ten years ago, when Bill and I were living in Germany the first time. Back then, I read a hilarious blog called Psychotic Letters From Men. The blog, which was discontinued just a few months after I started reading it, was about psychotic overtures of affection or spite delivered by jilted men. Some of the stories were creepy. Many were hilarious for all the wrong reasons. People were sending videos, social media posts, and emails to the blogger, who would repost them with funny commentary. I’m sure it was very embarrassing for the perpetrators, but it was also comedy gold for looky lous like me.

Anyway, Ben Ryan is quite the hunk…. or at least he was in 2009 or so. Two years before he was blogged about on Psychotic Letters from Men, he had a traumatic breakup with a girl named Loren. Apparently, he was so broken up about losing Loren, that he decided to make a video for her entitled Lost Love Story. Here it is, in all its cheesy glory.

Wow… this all seems pretty pointless. He’s probably made some YouTube bank, though. At this writing, his video has over 2.7 million views.

I have watched this video more than a few times. Every time I watch it, it makes me cringe anew. However, if there’s one thing Ben Ryan can take some heart in knowing, it’s that his cheesy love story has inspired so many people. I know I’ve written about him before. I’ve seen several music videos/parodies posted on YouTube paying special homage to Ryan’s “love” for long, lost Loren. This one is especially catchy. You can even dance to it.

I love the syncopated percussion in this. It sounds like it’s saying “dipshit” over and over again.

In fact, I think I might even enjoy this horrible little song more than the movie video, mainly because the sheer crappiness of the singer’s vocals suit the lyrics so well. The person who wrote the lyrics really captured the essence of Ryan’s “love story”, which is a study in pure narcissism. I also love the nasty synthesizer, which gives this song an especially cringeworthy quality that really suits this number and its subject matter. I mean, yeah, Ben has an impressive body, and he might even be a nice enough person, but I think he’s more in love with himself than with Loren, who appears to be nothing more than a possession to him. Maybe he was just really immature when he decided to make this video, but to me, it seems more about him showing off his muscles by tossing hay bales and boulders and moving tractor tires than expressing true love for a girl.

What the hell does riding a quad bike have to do with true love?

I just came across this video, supposedly by Loren’s friends, who claim that it really was a true love story and they were broken up by Loren’s parents, who didn’t want her dating a “poor farmer”. I have no way of knowing if what this person says is true or even if they are actually friends of Loren’s and Ben’s. Maybe their account is truthful. Maybe Ben is really just a swell guy. But his original video sure seems to tell a different story.

Truth or fiction? Don’t know.

I read somewhere that Ben had designs on becoming the next Captain America. He writes in his description that he produced this film entirely by himself, yet that obviously can’t be true. Someone had to film him, right? And of course, he used music. Most notably, he used “When I See You Smile” by Bad English. Actually, it was Bad English that made me think of Ben today. A friend posted Bad English’s 80s era video and it reminded me of this cornfest.

Well, I hope Ben and Loren have managed to go on living after this tragic death of a romance. I see people have had mixed reactions to it. Some people think it’s a heartwarming video. I remember more than a couple of people saying they thought Ben was a hottie. Other people think it’s creepy, corny, or just plain weird. I’m just glad it’s still around to make me laugh when I need a good one.

Hope everyone has a delightful Friday and an even better weekend.

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Song parodies

Just because I’m still feeling inappropriate…

On my original Overeducated Housewife blog, I once had a post called “Big Pink Dildo”. It was inspired by a minor drama that erupted in the Stuttgart Yard Sales Facebook group. As a joke, one of the “wives” decided to put her used pink dildo up for sale. She asked $5 for it, and, as the picture revealed, it came “equipped with pubes”. Naturally, a lot of people got their panties in a wad over the “joke”, and one extremely uptight group member demanded that the jokester take down her inappropriate, unprofessional post, lest someone’s child see a pink rubber replica of a man’s genitalia.

The lady who had put the sex toy up for sale had evidently long ago stopped using it for its intended purpose. It appeared to me that the toy was repurposed as a dog toy. It looked like it had teeth marks on it, as well as some kind of hair. Maybe it was pubes… but it was more likely dog hair. I have included a photo at the end of this post.

I was so tickled by this drama that I decided to write a blog post about it. I also made up a parody song set to Joni Mitchell’s hit song, “Big Yellow Taxi”. I changed the words to “Big Pink Dildo”, and even made a video. For over a year, that public post sat undisturbed on my Blogger account. But then one fateful day, I got a message from Google, telling me that my content had been “flagged” for being “inappropriate”. The person who flagged it was a Google staffer in India. I noticed he haunted my blogs for weeks after that report. It was almost as bad as when I wrote a negative post about USAA and got haunted by their PR people for weeks. I am happy to report that I’ve mostly kept my nose clean since– at least when it comes to big companies like Google and USAA.

Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have been a problem to write such a post and include a photo of a chewed up sex toy, but I was running ads on Blogger and lacked the technological savvy to prevent the ads from running on that post. Advertisers don’t like it when their products are advertised on posts that have anything sexually explicit or pornographic in them, even if the post is just a joke and not actually pornographic, like mine was.

For over two years, I kept that post in draft mode, thinking I might eventually repost it. But then I did a purging of some stuff and decided to toss that post along with some others that had given me trouble. Now that I have my blog on my own domain and am not running ads, I figure it’s time I shared “Big Pink Dildo”, the hit song, again for my intrepid readers. I think it’s pretty good, even if I do say so myself. I sure had fun with the lyrics. Maybe I missed my calling. Sorry about the picture, but we all have to get our thrills somewhere, right?

I didn’t add pictures until the very end because, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how I could do so without being overly crass…
You know, it almost doesn’t look like a dildo… It’s like a pink stick with clown shoes… or something. I’m not sure if the seller ever managed to unload it. Looks like her dog enjoyed it, anyway.

Anyway, that’s my outrageous and inappropriate posting for today. We also went car shopping, which I detailed on ye olde travel blog.

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Song parodies

“Sleepless Blues”

Here’s another song parody, written for my friend, Kim, who has insomnia. The melody for the song “Deacon Blues” popped in my head because it has that kind of languid, yet frustrated, boring mood to it. It seemed perfect for a song about insomnia. My lyrics are the result of about an hour’s worth of work, so sue me if they suck. I have nothing better to do. Don’t worry, I won’t quit my non-existent day job.

Sung to the tune of “Deacon Blues” by Steely Dan

Original lyrics by Donald Jay Fagen and Walter Carl Becker (scroll down for my reworked ones)

This is the day of the expanding man
That shape is my shade
There where I used to stand
It seems like only yesterday
I gazed through the glass
At ramblers, wild gamblers
That’s all in the past

You call me a fool
You say it’s a crazy scheme
This one’s for real
I already bought the dream
So useless to ask me why
Throw a kiss and say goodbye
I’ll make it this time
I’m ready to cross that fine line

Learn to work the saxophone
I play just what I feel
Drink Scotch whiskey all night long
And die behind the wheel
They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues

My back to the wall
A victim of laughing chance
This is for me
The essence of true romance
Sharing the things we know and love
With those of my kind
Libations
Sensations
That stagger the mind

I crawl like a viper
Through these suburban streets
Make love to these women
Languid and bittersweet
I rise when the sun goes down
Cover every game in town
A world of my own
I’ll make it my home sweet home

Learn to work the saxophone
I play just what I feel
Drink Scotch whiskey all night long
And die behind the wheel
They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues

This is the night of the expanding man
I take one last drag
As I approach the stand
I cried when I wrote this song
Sue me if I play too long
This brother is free
I’ll be what I want to be

I learned to work the saxophone
I play just what I feel
Drink Scotch whiskey all night long
And die behind the wheel
They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues

New lyrics… You can listen to me sing them, here.

This is a night I fear will never die

I toss and I turn

as moments are ticking by.

Seems like only last night

I drifted easily to sleep

Like a baby, and maybe

without counting sheep.

You call me alert

You say I should go to bed.

I’d like to, for real,

I would sleep like the dead.

So useless to close my eyes

Even as I realize

With that bright morning sun

I won’t want to rise and run.

Learn to work the slumber zone

My body just won’t obey

Drink warm milk and snuggle pillows

And lie awake anyway

They got a name for narcoleptics in the world

I want a name; I can’t snooze!

They call them sleepy, call them tired.

But I’ve got Sleepless Blues!

My back to the mattress

A victim of restlessness

This sucks a lot–

The essence of pointlessness.

Sharing the empty time

With no one else, cuz’ they’re in the void.

I’m cranky.

They’re skanky.

And I’m so annoyed.

I crawl like a baby

silently from the sheets

Tiptoe to the bathroom

and sit on the toilet seat

Pee again, and then softly flush

Quietly, the waters rush

It goes down the drain

Like this time I should rest my brain.

Learn to work the slumber zone

My body just won’t obey

Drink warm milk and snuggle pillows

And lie awake anyway

They got a name for narcoleptics in the world

I want a name; I can’t snooze!

They call them sleepy, call them tired.

But I’ve got Sleepless Blues!

This is the night I’ll never get to rest

I lie on my side, 

then turn over on my breasts

My eyelids droop and twitch,

Sue me if I act like a bitch.

I can’t fall asleep!

So I’m gonna be a creep!

Learn to work the slumber zone

My body just won’t obey

Drink warm milk and snuggle pillows

And stay awake anyway

They got a name for narcoleptics in the world

I want a name; I can’t snooze!

They call them sleepy, call them tired.

But I’ve got Sleepless Blues!


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