Rise by Skillet Is the Worst Song Ever Made

My wife will sometimes have me get songs downloaded, so she has songs she likes on her iPod instead of just the underground country, hippy, and death metal mix that I listen to. This is totally understandable. I'm actually happy about this, because she used to casually listen to Hatebreed, and every time I would walk in, I would want to punch a hole through the wall, which is not a healthy reaction when seeing your wife.

So the other day, she had me download some songs. Mostly people I knew kind of sucked like Miley Cyrus and Drake. She also exposed me to Royals by Lorde, and that has totally become my jam, so some good did come out of it. The only song that stood out was Rise by a band called Skillet. I didn't really think anything of it, so I downloaded it on the computer and put it on her iPod as well as mine, because unchecking that little box on iTunes is way too big of a hassle. This would turn out to be a pretty big mistake.

I went for a run the other day, and the song came on. I had no idea what the hell it was at first. I guess now is as good of time as any to play the song for you.

From that initial beeping at the beginning of the song, my first thought was, "What the fuck is this?" Then the guy started singing, and I'm like, "Shit, what the hell is this?" It was at this point that I took out my iPod and found out what it was. I smiled when I saw that it was one of the crappy songs my wife had wanted. Then the lady started singing, and by that point, nothing shitty could surprise me, so I embraced that part.

Now I could have easily switched to the next song, but I'm a little sadistic, so I needed to see this song through. I'm so happy that I did.

You see, this song is really shitty for the first three minutes and 45 seconds about revolting, with the final 45 seconds of that taking it to a worse place as they have children chanting. But as bad as that is, it is followed by the final 30 seconds which blows everything out of the water. It stops being a song, and becomes a phone call, a news story, and a family argument. I doubt anybody made it to this point in the video above, so here it is for you to enjoy.

I am a very relaxed runner, but rarely do I actually laugh out loud when running. This song changed all that, as I had to keep my balance, because I was bent over laughing by the end of this audio montage.

Here is the wonderful transcript in all its glory:

[Operator:] 911?
[Woman:] There's a guy here with a gun!
[Operator:] Ma'am? Ma'am?
[Woman:] Kids, get under the table! Kids get under the table!!!

This got me to giggle a little bit. I didn't really see how this scene really tied into the song, but I was pretty happy it was there.

[News reporter:] We are getting new reports from all around the globe, showing the highest unemployment rates since the end of World War II. Many are losing their jobs, their homes, and in many cases, their hope.

Through the first part, I was just trying to keep up with all that this news reporter was saying, but I had caught up by the last sentence. And when she says, "and in many cases, their hope," I just about lost my shit. That is rich. That is just rich. God, I was so happy.

[Dispatch:] [static police call] Domestic Disturbance in progress [more static]

I was a little disappointed, as nothing special happened here. But then...

[Upset parent:] You are such a failure! What is wrong with you? You're worthless! You can't do anything right! I wish you had never been born!

It was at this point where I nearly fell down laughing. I looked like an awkward runner, because my convulsing laughter minimized my stride, and I had to do everything I could just to stay upright. That last sentence from angry parent made me oh so happy. That sentence somehow summarizes all teen angst in just seven little words.

When I confronted my wife about this song, I was very relieved. She had never heard the song before, but a friend recommended it to her. That was a huge relief, as a divorce after four months would have been awkward.

Anyway, god bless you, Skillet. This song is the worst piece of shit I have ever listened to, but thanks for the laugh. If you are looking to make real music, maybe listen to the late, great, Wesley Willis.

Breaking Down the Lyrics of IMx's "First Time"

In my pursuit to comment on relevant things in the media, I have decided that it is time to look at a song that is over a decade old and probably not all that memorable for most people. The song is by IMx (also known as Immature, something I just found out by looking at their Wikipedia page), and it is called "First Time." If you do not know this song, you are probably in the majority. This song peaked at #69 (LOL) on the hip hop charts. It never even made it to the top 100 on the regular billboard charts. I seriously have no clue why I even have this song on my iPod. I have no idea where I would have even heard this song. I am not and was never hip enough to know anything about Hip Hop. But words cannot express how much I love this song. I have never listened to this song without laughing out loud. The lyrics are so wonderful, and that is why I want to break this song down, so you can enjoy it as much as I do. Before we do, refresh yourself on what a wonderful song it is, or enjoy it for the first time.

Now onto the lyrics:


[x3]
La la la la la la...
la la la la
la la la la la la la..

You know what they're trying to do right here? Set the mood. Ladies and gentleman, I deem this operation a total success.

See, normally a brother wouldn't talk about his first time

Except every guy ever who immediately brags to his friends about how some girl was dumb enough to let him put his weewee in her happy hole. That means penis in vagina for those of you who don't use the mature terminology.

But I'll just be real with y'all and say what's on my mind 
I remember like yesterday, just a little man 

What are we guessing, 14 years old? Is that what qualifies as a little man? It probably does, which means he definitely started before I did. It is amazing how people were so unconcerned about cooties in different parts of the country. I researched the shit out of that before I made any physical contact with a girl.

Had no clue, just quite didn't understand 
Looked up to big bro for a little advice 

Okay, that sounds like a good idea. You are 14, so you probably should ask your big brother if this is a good idea. I am sure your brother shared with you how important sex is, and how this is a really big deal and you need to be careful. I am sure he was very thoughtful with how he chose his words.

He said "Young bro, whatever you do, just make sure you strap twice" 

THAT IS THE BEST ADVICE EVER. What kind of family did this kid come from? Did I miss out by not asking my big bro about sex at a young age? Would he have given this sort of brilliant advice to me? As a 14 year old, would I have known to wear two condoms, or would I have heard enough rap music to think that I should bring two guns, because, you know, bitches be crazy. Looking back, I am very glad that I was not a sexually active 14 year old.

I was a little bit nervous about being my first time 
But I said "What the hell this girl is too damn fine" 

A few years ago, I was looking through my middle school yearbook. I remember who I thought was really hot back then. I looked at the pictures, and let me make an official blog proclamation, no 14 year old girl is "too damn fine."

[Chorus] 
My very first time 
In the house, on the couch, in your parents' bedroom remember 

Why do her parents have a couch in their bedroom? Problems between Mom and Dad? Probably; that's why their daughter is having sex at such an early age. Proper morals start at home. If Dad had to move a couch into the bedroom just so he would have a place to sleep in peace, clearly things are not going well.

My very first time 
Can't wait 'til the day when I see you again remember 

Dude, you probably biked over there. You could see her tomorrow. I wouldn't think that many parents would see a boy come over and immediately think that you had sex with their daughter the day before. Unless they can smell it on you, and seriously, if that is the case, take a shower, you probably smell awful.

My very first time 
It was just as special to me as it was to you girl 
My very first time 
Will never forget my first time 

See it was Sunday afternoon, moms and pops were gone 

Probably having a lovely afternoon at the Home Depot.

We had to be on the low cuz they were on their way home 

You probably should have started shortly after they left. Not right before they were about to get home.

We started kissing then it led straight to the bed 
Can't believe this is happenin' is what I'm thinking in my head 
Lasted like a minute but it seemed like forever 

I really appreciate his honesty. I could write a simliar song, but I'm not sure how I would rhyme with "multiple orgasms." I don't know, maybe, "filled her chasm," but I'm just workshopping right now.

We almost got caught but I'm just too damn clever 

It wasn't your cleverness that got you out of that situation, it was that it lasted a minute. If you could rob a bank in one minute, it would probably be a whole lot easier to get away with it.

Your parents came home from church and i was outta there like a drop of a dime

Woah, woah, woah. Let's slow down here. Her parents weren't at Home Depot; they were at church? She skipped church to bang you for a minute? Shit dude, don't warp it twice, wrap it thrice. Safety first, brah.

Man I will never forget my first time

The sores still haven't gone away, have they?

This goes out to the first do you know 
when will I see you again (see you again) 
And no matter how old we both get no regrets I'll never forget 
My first time 

I'm sure that she has a few regrets. Her one minute of sex just got her a one-way ticket to hell.

[Chorus] 

See some of you might've started early, some of you started late 
But I know when I started, man, I thought it was great 
This goes out to all my little brothers in the world 
Make sure your first time's with that special girl 

The one that requires a double wrap on your dong.

Clap your hands if you remember (clap your hands) 
your first time (first time), your first time (first time) 
Clap your hands (clap your hands with me) 
if you remember your first time (your first time), your first time baby 

You can bet your ass that I clap every time I hear this part of the song, and I would expect you to do the same.

[Chorus x2]

So that is why I love this song so much. It never fails to make me smile. So clap your hands, fill that chasm, and whatever you do, make sure you strap twice.

Running Is Dumb

After a two-week hiatus due to the flu, I got back to running this past Saturday. The bad news is that running is dumb. The good news is that I am an idiot, and hoo boy, was I stupid on this run.

I never really set out a definite path or length for my runs, because I like to live my life with freedom and adventure (America!). This can lead to shorter runs, because during my run, I realize how stupid running is, or it can lead to longer runs, where my stupidity outweighs the stupidity of running, and I just keep going. My run was the latter.

It started out quite peacefully, temperature in the mid-50s, a little bit of wind, but nothing excessive. So I just strolled along. The one thing I do decide before my run is pick my music. It's usually happy music, rap from the late 90s early 00s, or heavy metal/Ultimate Warrior Inspirational speeches. Today was happy music, so I was at peace as I got my run on.

Things were going smooth for me early on in the run. I took a road with no sidewalks, but since it was early in the morning, cars were good about giving me my required three feet of space as they drove by. At about mile four, I saw this 50 year old dude running the other way across the street, and he was going at a good pace. Good for him, I thought, as I gave a friendly wave as we went our separate ways. Shortly thereafter, I heard a bike coming up from behind me so I got to the side as it got on my ass pretty quickly. Then, it turned out that it was just the 50 year old speed demon passing me by. This was the fastest human being alive. I am convinced he is like an Albino Kenyan. I have kept up with most people riding bikes better than I was able to keep up with him. He also had a jacket tied around his waist, and as he got further away, it had the effect of making him look like a superhero. I tried to pick up my pace, but I'm not sure if my Ford Escort could have kept up with him. To top it all off, we chatted a little as he flew by me, which led to him asking me if I was Canadian. I have no idea why he thought I was Canadian. I don't think I look Canadian. I don't think I sound Canadian. My best guess is that he overheard me listening to Alanis Morissette on my run and figured I was doing it for national pride. So, I got passed like a bitch and accused of being Canadian. That is the definition of complete ownage.

When I get completely owned, I need to get revenge. Since I was physically unable to catch The Human Bullet, I decided that I would run further than he did. Sure, he was out of sight, so I have no idea how far he ran, but as long as my heart believes that I ran further than him, I would be fine. A light sprinkle started which actually felt quite nice. This would not feel nice later on.

Like an idiot, I ran...and ran....and ran. The road was new to me, so I got distracted by the pretty trees with their leaves changing colors and the houses I had never seen before. My IQ drops to mentally handicapped when I run, so everything about the world turns truly wondrous for me.

As I entered my third town from my run, I thought, "Cool, let's keep running." I should have thought, "Probably time to head back." But I kept running. Then the road I was on ended, which was another sign to head back, but I saw the Interstate in the distance, so I decided to run on the shoulder of a highway as cars zipped by me. This was not concerning at all, because I was in my mental retardation state, so I was just thinking, "Wow, cars go VROOOM!"

I finally cross under the interstate and decide it is time to head home. My happiness subsides, and I realize that this is not going to be fun. The rain is no longer a sprinkle, as it is coming down pretty hard. About a mile into my adventure on the way back, Adele's "Set Fire to the Rain" gets me way too pumped. Because it's raining. And I'm running really hard, so it is like my feet are on fire. So I'm basically living the song out. And that's not feminine at all, it is totally badass, so I stand by rocking out to Adele.

I'm about halfway back, and it is absolutely pouring. A car pulls over to the side of the road, maybe because they are worried about my well-being. No, they just need directions. I barely know where I am, but I take their map and figure out where they need to go. I am proud of this good deed on my part, but I'm pretty sure they never found the place as they ignored my first direction of, "Turn around."

And on I went. I was completely drenched. I had to stuff my iPod down my underwear to try to save it from the rain. I consistently stepped in puddles filling my shoes with their own tiny, little puddles. Hills were nearly unbearable as I could barely lift my legs high enough to keep moving forward. And there was not enough Adele in the world to keep me pumped. Basically, it sucked.

After 17 miles, I finally stumbled home. I drank a glass of water and ate a banana in about 15 seconds. I then peeled off my clothes, which I think weighed about 10 pounds with all of the water weight, and took a hot shower. I then bundled up, covered myself with two blankets and shivered for the next half hour as I watched a wedding show, as I was too cold to change the channel.

Running is dumb. Don't ever do it...I wonder where I'll run next week.

Never Trust Old People

Never trust an old person.  I know that they say old people have wisdom, and that's all well and good, but if you need actual real world advice, they will completely screw you over.  I found this out the hard way over the weekend.

On Saturday morning, I woke up early, so I could go for a run and make it back home before football started at 11. I got on the road between 8:30-8:45 (I'm never totally sure of the time because I have a routine of pooping and stretching before I get my jog on).  The beauty of a good run is I can totally get in a zone where I pretty much black out and my brain completely shuts down. I was jamming out to some Metallica, and I probably would have worn out Steve Prefontaine at the pace I was going.

I headed down the road, then hit up the bike trail and just kind of kept going because I was in my zone. After a while on the trail, my brain, working at about 5% efficiency thought that the trail curved up to the road; it didn’t, but I didn’t notice until I had already turned so I decided to just go that way.  This would turn out to be a critical mistake.

I thought that this was going to turn out well, because the road actually curved back to my home so I felt that this was actually going to work out. I took a left, figuring that this road would run into at least one of the roads that crosses over near my house. This was mistake number two.

This road is a major road that somehow crosses no other major road, but I keep going, and going...and going down this road. Finally, I see a bike trail. Even though it makes no sense that it was the bike trail I was on, I decide that this was probably the bike trail that I was on. I do notice that the numbers on this bike trail are in the 400s, and the bike trail I originally was on had numbers in the 300s. Since I am an eternal optimist, this is the first time that I am positive that I am lost.

I see an old lady walking her dog on the sidewalk. and I figure this is a great opportunity to get pointed in the right direction.  I ask her for directions to the Hy-Vee on Mills Civic, since I live right by there. She tells me that there’s Hy-Vee’s closer so I should go to them. I explain to her that I really need to go to the one that I suggested. She tells me I was going the total wrong way and points me towards where I need to go. I thank her and am on my way.

I see streets in the 50s and get excited, because I live on 50th, so that means I must be close, right? I keep trying to take 50th, but it ends every three blocks, so I keep zig-zagging to nearby streets to stay close to 50th. This plan probably could have worked had I been in West Des Moines. I wasn't.  I see the Interstate and get excited, because I know I can’t be too far away. I run across it thinking that it shouldn’t be too long until I’m back home, so I keep running.

I run by a giant cemetery, is this foreshadowing my imminent death? Luckily not. I keep running and I see a street named Franklin which rings a bell with me, so I’m excited. I see a street called Hickman, which I also recognize. This depresses me. I have a buddy who lives one block north of Hickman, and he lives in the heart of Des Moines. Shit.

It turns out that the old lady didn’t give me bad directions; she gave me the worst directions possible. Had I kept just running into the bike trail, I would have run into I-35, all I would have had to do was head north, and I would have been back home in very little time. Instead, she sent me in the total opposite direction.

How bad did it end for me? Well, I never really set a distance for my runs, I go out, run, and turn around when I start feeling like shit.  On a day where I felt great, like I did on Saturday, I probably would have gone 6-8 miles.  Instead, I went somewhere around 22 miles. The first 12 miles were actually really smooth, but I got tired, then depressed when I learned where I was, and I finally turned off Metallica to listen to more soothing sounds. After that, I’d still run occasionally, but it was a lot of walking, especially once my calves felt like they were going to explode from cramping. I ended up being outside, in the bitter cold, while absolutely starving, for a little over four hours. I got home, ate something, got all bundled up in different clothes, covered up, and shivered in my bed for the next 45 minutes until my body finally warmed up. Never trust old people.

And yes, this could have been titled Joe Is An Idiot, but my inner compass was actually working until I listened to that old lady. I would publicly like to retract my thank you to her for the directions. Take that, senior citizens.

-Joe

P.S.  There's a lot of good advice here, but I especially love "Put the brakes on the mundane, and accelerate into the fast lane."  I'm guessing this is the way that people lived their life a quarter mile at a time before Fast and the Furious came out:

It's The Shit: Three Keys to a Successful Poop

Sorry Michael Jordan and Sam Perkins.  Today, We're Talking About Number Two.

 

Although I am a very spry 26 years young; I am wise beyond my years.  That is why I know the ins and outs of something that people overlook yet do at least once a day (twice a day for me since I have a healthy amount of fiber in my diet).  Yes, pooping.  It has a lot of gross connotations, but it's something natural, and as you'll find out, if done properly, it can be a beautiful experience.  Here are the keys to turning your experience from shitty to asstastic.

1.  Location -  Now most people would have you believe that going home is clearly the best possible location to take care of your business.  These are obviously simpletons who can't see the big picture.  Does your home have some advantages?  Of course it does, familiarity will always have value when you are feeling vulnerable.  But for those who are bold, that live their life a quarter mile at a time, there is a far better location to drop a deuce.  That place is work.  Think about this:  When you poop during work, you are getting paid to poop.  Paid to poop?  God Bless America.  So sit back, relax, and count that scrilla, because it's always best to take care of your business during business hours.

2.  Amenities - This is a huge mistake that most people make when taking a dump.  They go to the bathroom empty handed.  When I took care of my business at work, I made no secret about it.  I would stroll through the office with a book in my hand and my iPod bumping tunes in my ears as I headed to the private toilet of the visiting coaching staff (yes, Ryne Sandberg and I have used the same shitter).  I was not ashamed of what I was doing, and I knew that amenities can help take your poop to the next level.  Why sit there, drop waste, while your life wastes away when you can seize the day?  I seized it real good.  I would jam out to my favorite tunes and knock out a chapter of whatever book I was reading at the time.  A few years ago, I remember returning home for the first time in months and being ecstatic at my Dad's latest construction project.  He had mounted a TV by the toilet so you'd never have to miss a moment of your favorite show or sporting event while you went to the can.  That's great hustle right there.  So, whatever your vice is, whether it's music, books, or TV, bring it with you when you doodoo.  But I must warn everyone, your ass will occasionally go numb if you sit there too long.  It's a small price to pay when you pimp your poop.

3.  Toilet Paper - Somehow a necessity for number two is often overlooked, but do not underestimate its importance.  Good toilet paper is like oral sex.  Sure, at first, any toilet paper will do, you're just happy to have it there.  But then you use Charmin Ultra, and it is a whole new experience.  You honestly sit there and hope that it never ends, maybe even using techniques to prolong the experience.  After that, well, the rough toilet paper just doesn't do it for you anymore.  You go from appreciating it to loathing it.  When I see that economy sized, thin and rough, sorry excuse for toilet paper, I swallow hard, and yes, I use it, but something that should be pleasant can actually be painful.  It's terrible that something that should feel so right can go so wrong.  So remember, soft and gentle is much better than rough and teethy.

So make sure that your pooping experience is the shit; otherwise, you're just a piece of it.

-Joe

P.S.  I'm sure some of you nerds were probably out drinking on Saturday night.  Me?  Hell no, I was watching fights, football, and most importantly, the Bulls/Rockets game.  For those that didn't see it, here is the end of regulation from that game:

And yes, the Bulls won in overtime.  Derrick Rose is really good at basketball.