Woot! I am the first guest poster....What should I say?

Well Piehole, you rock my world with your hilarious take on your life. I wish my co-workers and boyfriend etc had cool names like Geriatric Mark. Hmmm what would I call my man? Wants to be a child forever C? ha ha

I must conquer the laundry monster tonight. Before it conquers me. I am just thinking it will be vastly more enjoying with the company of a bottle of Shiraz. Just so long as I remember to keep my darks and lights separate, right?

And I am craving Garlic Bread.

/random guest entry.

Amy... Out. (gag.)

Hahaha. Boobies.

I'm going to make that my password for everything.

And dude, share the margarita love. I had melba snacks for lunch. Not cool.

This is my loveletter to you, BDA. Not that you're not already aware, but you are swell.

I love your big round head. I do not wish to rip your roast beef apart xjskahj, but I'll be happy to get drunk and mock people with you at your earliest convenience.

The end.

Love,
Joelle

Why do so many people want Reagan on their money? Bury the poor guy first, for chrissakes!

And on a lighter note-- The Florida Marlins lost tonight. Oh, no! That wasn't light! Damn it all to hell! Now I'm depressed....

Note to self-- stop drinking on weeknights...

I have no idea why I used that for a title. I just wanted to say that this blog is a new daily visit for me and also I wanted to plug my own blog so I can become the ruler of the bloggoverse some day. When I become ruler, things are gonna change around here big time! First order of business, the price of bottled water.
Brooks
Brooks Blog

I just stopped by to say...

A man goes to the doctor and says: "Doctor, there's a piece of lettuce sticking out of my bottom."

The doctor asks him to drop his trousers and examines him.

The man asks, "Is it serious, doctor?" and the doctor replies, "I'm sorry to tell you but this is just the tip of the iceberg."

I'll be polite and refrain from making any remarks about salad tossing. :)

*smoochies*

Christine

pms + hubby birthday + alcohol + very little sleep + STRESS!

you do the math. but remember, it's about me, not her.

Aha! I've secretly infiltrated the holy magical boobie palace! Let the debauchery begin! Wait a minute, the party's started already. Where should I put these Zimas? I brought them for your "friendly" neighbours. Hopefully then they'll keep their hands to themselves. Remember last time, Beesh?

Of course you don't remember last time. You were so shattered you couldn't find your own boobies. Now, that was certainly a feat. Of course, I do have that picture you sent me a while back, now don't I? Oh yes, quite the picture, that. Shall I post it for your entire reading populous to marvel upon?

Nah, we'll just keep it to ourselves.

Psych! Check it out:

Call me!
~El Dorkus

Amy again... I should be working on my OWN blog. Follow that link, maybe I'll compose something semi-brilliant later for y'all. Anyway. the whole boobie thing keeps me coming back for more. Boobies Unite and we shall take over the world!

Boobies!

They're so cute.

WOWZA!!!!!! Unlimited entry to the "Mistress of Boobydom and Hoobity" 's domain. Mistress!!!! You clever and delicious (licious?) hoobity master you. You DEFINITELY know how to hoobity.......AND you do it with plenty of boobity!!!! Bouncy,bouncy,bouncy,bouncy,fun,fun,fun,fun,fun, the most wonderful thing about Jennifer is HOOBITY and BOOBITY FUN!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for your attention.......now get back to work!!!!.....or drinking, whichever you prefer!!!!! Piehooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooole................

I think this might well be one of the finest journaling concepts ever invented.

It's about 3:36 am Eastern time (25 or 6 to 4 in Chicago time!) and I'm running a fever. And I have to be up in a few hours to go to work. It's so fun being me I can hardly stand it.

Only one thing sustains me. The Piehole™.

O, how I worship the Piehole™.

Damn, this concept rocks. I wish I had something meaningful to say.

- posted by Golfwidow

Woohoo! I'm in Jennifer's Piehole!

It's a bit damp in here.

I wonder where she keeps all the hoobity. In a box perhaps?

Jennnnnnn!!!! Aren't you going to show us your hoobity box?

Yes, that's right, I'm a bad bad bad bad man.

mutster101, a.k.a. mutster101

Jennifer doesn't do enough quizzes - so here's a quiz that Jennifer didn't do because her piehole is full of booze.

You're a Spirograph!! You're pretty tripped out,
even though you've been known to be a bit
boring at times. You manage to serve your
purpose in life while expending hardly any
effort (and are probably stoned to the gills
all the while).

What childhood toy from the 80s are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

posted by - TheFrog

This one time? I went out to lunch with the boyfriend, and he was standing there holding the chair for me, and since I ain't accustomed to no fancy chivalry crap, I stood there confused... So he sighed real big and pointed to the chair with eyes that clearly said "SIT ON THIS CHAIR, DUMBASS".

So as you can see, I am very charming. He cannot resist my idiot wiles! He's SO in the bag. (He's totally not in the bag.)

And now! Back by lukewarm demand! Guest Posting! ... And I highly encourage you to post, or I will cry and cry and cry. But I might just be saying that because I'm always highly emotional after I watch home makeovers on TV.

Wah! Cabinetry!

Meow. Meow meow meow meow meow. Meow meow?

Meow.

Meow meow meow meow meow woof meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow Meow meow meow meow.

Meow,
Meow

... jennifer gives us all together too many ways for us to infiltrate her life and take over... i mean really?? letting us into her blog to just post... this girl is CRAZY

but i have a cat/plastic bag problem so this (boring) guest post is over
vodkavases

I hate that I love the flavor of cranberry juice, but if I drink it in front of anyone, they automatically assume I have a urinary tract infection.

Damn you, cranberry juice, and the bad reputation you have made for yourself.

Carry on.

posted by golfwidow

I'd forgotten I'd suggested this the other day, supposed I'd better post something.

*shines flashlight around*

I really wish Jenn would keep this place tidier. There's crap all over the place.

Oooh! What's this? A book with a plush red velvet cover. And on the cover in gold it says "Jenn's Dirty Thoughts". Heh heh heh.

*sits down and reads*

Well Jenn, we'll keep this between you and me, eh? *wink*

Tell you what though, I'm gonna see Reece Witherspoon in a whole new light now ;-)

(mutster101 wrote this tripe)

That was mistake.

People will write all kinds of strange things about boobs and drinking and wierd things their kids did.

Oh, Wait.

Never mind.

Jon in Michigan

Once upon a time there was a Siamese cat who pretended to be a lion and spoke inappropriate Zebraic.

That language is whinnied by the race of striped horses in Africa.

Here now: An innocent zebra is walking in a jungle and approaching from another direction is the little cat; they meet.

"Hello there!" says the Siamese cat in perfectly pronounced Zebraic. "It certainly is a pleasant day, isn't it? The sun is shining, the birds are singing, isn't the world a lovely place to live today!"

The zebra is so astonished at thearing a Siamese cat speaking like a zebra, why--he's just fit to be tied.

So the little cat quickly ties him up, kills him, and drags the better part of the carcass back to his den.

A bear was in the woods, taking the Browns to the Super Bowl, so to speak. A rabbit came along, and joined him. The bear turned to the rabbit and asked him "Do you have the problem of having the shit stick to your fur?" "No, I sure don't." answered the rabbit.
So the bear wiped his ass with the rabbit.

The Lunchbox
Scholar, and friend to bears

i got a french manicure on saturday. it's purdy.

low fat nilla wafers are 93% as good as regular nilla wafers. and yes. i said nilla.

piehole makes me laugh.

so sayeth sarah from misanthropic tendencies.

I just floored the gas and popped the clutch! Wahoooo! Nothing痴 better than peeling out on someone else's blog. Having made my dramatic, tires squealing, fishtailing entrance, I totally forgot what I was going to write. Um...

Okay. I remember now.

There痴 just something about Monday mornings that makes me feel a little wild. This morning, I found myself fantasizing about leather pants and hand grenades as I slathered jelly and peanut butter on bread. I envisioned the crack of a bullwhip as I pried my son痴 hands off of the doorframe and half carried, half dragged him to the minivan. On the drive to school, my son said 溺ommy, are you going to be an archeologist when you grow up?� That sounds good, provided I actually grow up, but only if I can be like that Tomb Raider chick. Because I totally would rock the spandex and hip holsters.

I have an unabashed fascination with female action heroes, which is clearly why I am a devoted reader of Piehole. With her mesmerizing boobs and mad dyke fu skillz, Jennifer is a beacon of righteousness in a sea of normality. Rock on, Princess Sparkly Pants!

And now, I will lock it up and pitch it sideways. Peace, out.

Jenny/Yoda

Man, I really hope that today's class isn't going to be boring, but I can feel the wave of boredom washing over the class...

Maybe if i run fast enough, I can outrun it!

But anyways I've got to go back to not paying attention in class, and trying to figure out how to dye my hair purple...

Ciao!

If I fart one more time I swear to God my office chair will simply disintegrate.

Okay, well, now I'm on the floor. It's cold down here. And linty. And I can't really see what I'm typing.

I'd better go find another chair. And maybe some sort of scented spray.

Sorry I stunk up your blog. I really like it.

Breana

2004-08-18 - 10:37 a.m.

It appears 'Crazy in Alabama' has some sort of heart problem that necessitated a visit to the emergency room. They actually had to stop her heart and restart it. I can't imagine how frightening that must be, but she says (in her usual off-kilter, funny way) that it was her atonement for going Sean Young on her ex and his new punchboard the night before. Some people shouldn't mix beer and phones.

I told her the bad karma was the result of carrying around a severed head in a Tupperware container. Possibly, she had been carrying it around for too long. "Pffft," she said. "I burp it!" I about pissed myself over that one. In an instant, everything became clear to me. You want great Karma and a good life? Burp your Tupperware.

Crazy, my ass.

long johns (thermal underwear) + long skirt = warm, but with mucho static cling.

slip? what's a slip? i haven't worn one of those in years. but now i remember what they are for.

go me (aka doofus, apparently)!

*Rises up from the Ashes*

Hello Jeniffer! It's me, the Phoenix. Long time reader. Anyways... I just want to know something: When is your boy going to the Neverland Ranch? I hear Michael really needs some kids to go there cause attendance is low.

Ok, I'm sorry, I couldn't let that one pass, next time I'll be good and not mention Jacko-ff in the guest entry.

Hoping you all have a nice rest of monday,
Phoenix

:geriatricmark: got back from The Armpit in one piece, which I celebrated by falling down the stairs in my office... Go me.

And I would like to thank you, Los Angeles, for not breaking my boyfriend... And I'm sorry I called you an armpit. I didn't mean it. (I totally meant it.)

PS. And I would like to thank you, Jive Turkeys, for participating in Piehole Open Posting Day. You made me laugh. You made me cry. You made me go, "Huh?" You're the greatest!

OK, so my wife and I had the...........interesting fortune of chaperoning a high school dance. Now, we're both 27, but it was just freakin' weird. My wife said, "If we danced missionary in high school, these kids dance doggie-style." And, I realized that we're in a whole new plane of sexual experimentation. There was the usual boy-behind-girl, but, just for fun, the girls would assume a posture that could say, "Oops, I dropped my keys," "I'm looking for my contact lens," or, "Is this angle better?" And to add to the sensitive moment, they'll add a little ass slap. But that's not all. There were daisy chains of this stuff! One boy and a whole mess of girls. I think there was, at one point, a very excited freshman boy who was the benefactor of a Freshman Boy Sandwich, and ran off to tell all his friends.

I think Piehole is growing up backwards. (Like Mork! From Ork!)*

A while back, as the proprietor of a little weblog called Diary Quotes, I thought it would be funny to find a drunk entry from every diary I read, and try to get people to vote for the best inebriated writing. I went back three years into Jennifer's archives, and could not find a single entry that she'd written while drunk.

This was fascinating to me, as most of us have at least one little post we've written while shitfaced. But not Jennifer! Oh no! She had more decorum than that. Or maybe, she was just too damn cool for that. When she got shitfaced, she did not run to the keyboard, as some of us lame-o's did.

However, as you may notice, she now advertises herself as a "Professional Drunk Blogger."

I rest my case. She is now as uncool and immature as the rest of us. WELCOME TO MEDIOCRITY, SISTER!

Here it is, my blogger horror movie script!

Imagine, if you will, the following:

A nice girl sits patiently in a huge college library. She is parked at a computer terminal that is indistinguishable from its hundreds of library counterparts. She concentrates, working hard despite the distractions.

All around her, people break library rules by talking on their cell phones. They chat loudly with friends about the latest party/boy/clothing trend, they check their MySpace and do not turn off the music, and they let their cell phones sing away. The medley of rap/rock/bad pop combines with the vapid discussion in a symphony of Oh-God-Please-Let-Me-Go-Temporarily-Deaf.

The nice girl, desperate to create a beautiful PowerPoint presentation, zeroes in on the screen. She creates her own beautiful PowerPoint, and even manages to fix the problems that are running wild in the too short/too long/badly designed bits she has received from group mates. She has almost become a professional at drowning out the mind-numbing Song of the College Library.

Then, disaster strikes. The library, under construction since time immemorial, has decided to JACKHAMMER on the fourth floor. Directly above her head, the entire ceiling begins to shake and pound. Every thought is fractured by the endless and irregular drumming of metal on building.

She thinks about running. Instead she stays, and creates THE MOST AWESOMEST POWERPOINT EVER!!!!!!!!!

I am cool.

No one reading this knows who I am. In fact I don't even know Jennifer. Heck, I've never been to Seattle. But I do read her blog. Why? Because I find it funny, sad, witty, heartwarming, and sometimes I'm just bored out of my skull. Do I find this behaviour creepy? I sure do. Will I stop? Probably not.

Now I'll try to be and Jennifer as possible.

So today I went to get my hair cut at the Cosmotalogy Department at the local college.. It hasn't been cut since forever and has grown out to about 4 inches! 4 INCHES!

The girl who cut my hair was cute and talkative, but probably several years older than me. So I didn't have the panache to ask her out. I know, I know, cheesy way to ask for a date! But she was cute!

Conversation:

Anywho, today I got an interview for tomorrow with a company based in Taiwan! Yayz! If I land the job I'll be able to do all those grownup things like own a car, rent an apartment, watch R movies, etc.

If you want to look me up, just google "josherickson" and my site should be one of the first results!

it was a grey afternoon in seattle that may the 3rd. april had come and gone without a second thought from the starbucks loving mass of people.

but that grey afternoon in may a low rumble could be heard faintly to the east. at first it wasn't enough to warrant peeping ones head up over the newspaper or a second quick sip from the coffee that was still too hot to drink.

within no time at all though, that low rumble became the loud roar of rusted pickup trucks. all blaring various unco-ordinated kid rock tracks.

it was the most disorganized invasion of any city on record.

especially when they noticed that it was $2 bottled beer night at the pub on 12th street.

this entry brought to you by mmat, general of the welfare army.

yeah, even to copy and paste, so click me.

Posting on someone else's blog is a little strange. It's like when your next door neighbour goes away and leaves you with the keys to their apartment and asks you to water their plants, and so you let yourself in and you water their plants and as you're about to leave you notice that jacket they're always wearing that you like so much hanging on the hat stand, and you look around and think what the hell and you put the jacket on and it feels pretty good so you walk around the apartment for a bit, checking yourself out in the mirror. You walk around a bit more and try to walk the way your neighbour walks and even do that hello thing they do, that little sideways nod of the head, and you realise the head nod would look even more realistic if you wore their beanie, which is also hanging on the hat stand, and looking at yourself in the mirror you think you do a pretty good impersonation of your neighbour, so you decide to celebrate this small achievement by going to the fridge, cracking open a beer and settling in front of the television to catch a little of the football, cheering the way you sometimes hear your neighbour cheering at the football. You're really getting into all of this until you hear somethiing at the door and realise that it's your neighbour letting themself in for something they forgot, like their favourite jacket, and they stand at the door and stare at you sitting their in their clothing drinking their beer and watching their telly... it's a little bit like that.

Since our gracious hostess is fond of tall, big boned, white boys (which I am) and Southern accents I decided that I壇 take advantage of this open posting and brush off some of my Southern that I haven稚 had to use in a few years. So y誕ll just sit back and rest a spell while I tell you a story. Now, I haven't lived in the South for nigh on 12 years now, so I reckon that痴 the end of the Southern speech I知 throwing into this post.

The town we live in has a large trash pick up once a year. It痴 a time where you can get rid of all those annoying things that accumulate in your garage the rest of the year because they're too large to fit in a trash can. It's also the time where people perform the more than slightly creepy ritual of examining everyone else's trash and taking what they feel might be useful. Typically this special trash pick up occurs in early May, but items will begin collecting on the curb a few weeks before.

As we left our neighborhood the recently, we noticed that a neighbor had apparently done some bathroom remodeling and had placed two old toilets by the curb to get rid of them. A day or two later, we drove past again and only one toilet remained, because someone had decided to take it. We discussed this and tried to figure it out, but couldn't really come up with a decent answer. So I'll put the question to all of you: Would you take a used toilet that a stranger had put out on the street? If so why? Of course the Southern part of me is picturing the toilet out in someone's front yard, a perfect new home for a flowering plant or maybe a birdbath.

While I know I can't be as amusing a Jennifer (but then, who can?), I hope you've all enjoyed my visit. I know I have. Y'all feel free to come visit me anytime, y'hear.

Oh, I'll visit at the open log in, can I have the keys to my very own pool Boy! too?
::Wendy::

"Gimme the keys, I drive, I drive" 10 pts to anyone who can name the movie that quote comes from.

I have keyboard mutiny on my hands people. On my laptop the letter Q for Quirky and Quesedilla is on strike--maybe because of upcoming CinQuo de Mayo? And on the Treo, the letter E/#1 is on the fritz. This maks my txt mssags look somthing lik this.

; ) Amy

When Jennifer's away, I come out in my undies and dance to Bob Seger.

'Cos sometimes, you just gotta say, "What the fuck."

(If you can't say it, you can't do it.)

Although these days, I find myself saying it more often in reaction to Tom Cruise's antics with the media than I do in relation to my own taking of chances, dancing in underwear, or running brothels out of my living room.

I believe it's time for coffee.

Peace out.

Golf Widow

I shouldn't be surprised that boobies are the key to posting in Jennifer's world. All the Jennifiers I know have formidable boobies. The Jennifer I live with has enormous boobies.

They are so enormous, in fact, that when she calls my cell phone it yells "Boobs! Boobs! Boobs! Boobs! Boobs! Boobs! It's Jenn!" In the loudest fashion possible.

Ha ha! We're so wacky and crazy! Acknolwedging the power of the boobies with a cell phone ringer! What a fantastic idea!

Until my phone rang while I was working in the silent floor of the library and forgot to turn the volume off.

Sorry, Mr. Librarian man. Please don't kill me?

~Christina

There's a young guy in our neighborhood who everyone hates. My dog, who loves everyone, even hates his dog.

This guy is rude and lazy. In a neighborhood full of dog owners, he never picks up his dog's poop. It's just inconsiderate.

Many of us have complained to the management company, but there just isn't a lot they can do, or so they say.

So today, KARMA STRIKES! I watched out my window as he left his building, walking past the Fed Ex truck parked out there, and got in his car. He started it up, and BACKED RIGHT INTO THE FED EX TRUCK!!!

Now he has spent the last half hour exchanging info and filling out forms.

Karma, I love you.

What can we say about Jennifer?
She, of the super shiny hair,
She, princess of the sparkly pants,
She, who can use power tools in a non-dyke fashion,
She, of many cute purses,
She, who dresses all in black in spite her upbringing,
She, who… who… uh, I owe money.

Smell ya later, chickie.
This crappy poetry brought to you by: Lacroix

It's been awhile since I had Movable Type and seeing it now makes me kinda miss it.

Only, that's not why I was going to post.

Actually, I don't remember why I was going to post, because I ended up getting all distracted and going "Awwww - movable type!! I miss you!! I should totally change my blog back from Word Press to MT!"... and from there, it sort of degenerated from there into some weird bitchfight between WP and MT in which MT would win, but I'd still keep WP anyway because I'm too lazy to install MT and covert everything from WP to MT, and then MT would shed a single tear and walk off into the sunset...

I need caffiene is what I'm really saying.

Aloha from the Rainbow State, Jennifer!

Hello. Guest posting, eh? I feel a little...naughty logging into someone else's blog. Like I'm some doppleblogger or maybe will be accused of idenity theft. Just so we're clear, I'm innoceent okay? My name is NOT Jennifer. I do NOT live in Seattle. I do not have a handsome pool boy. None. Okay.
I'm supposed to be working right now, but this rare opportunity takes precedent.
I'm also a tad distracted because there are six strangers tearing up the garden next door to my house. Since I live in the city, they are quite close and might as wel be IN my dining room with me. I'm a little uncomfortable. I want them to go away. I don't like people.

*peers around*

Good lord. Jenn's piehole is different from the last time I was inside it. Roomier, for starters. Still as untidy as ever though.

*peers more*

My God! Where has all the hoobity gone?

SHE USED UP ALL THE HOOBITY!

Would anyone like a fresh muffin? I could go and bake some.

[This pointless excuse for a post (mostly recycling the same jokes he did when he last guestposted) brought to you by the one and only mutster101]

Jason Rohrblogger's Top Ten Fave Lines from Piehole

10. He's lucky that he says "structure" in that way that makes me all melty. And then "structure structure structure" so that I get super melty.

9. PS. Winner of the Ciscoe Morris Impersonation Contest? ME!

8. ...when we engage in an uncharacteristic, and potentially soppy, walk on the beach while holding hands, he called me shithead.

7. "Mont-gum-reh! It's suppah time!"

6. My hair is having a very cute day... My back fat, on the other hand, not so much.

5. Two dishwashers. One for the dishes, one for the dildos.

4. ...it was either drinking or stabbing people.

3. And by "fun" I mean "salmonella"

2. I wish I could punch you through the phone.

And Jason Rohrblogger's number one fave line from Piehole...

1. Piehole! The title itself is pure hilarity! As if there is a hole just for pie... -snicker-

-Jason Rohrblogger

And the alternates...

Who knew that 2 donuts could knock me on my ass?
Will I ever tire of being leered at like I'm a piece of meat by middle-aged couples trying to get their three-way on?
...throwing rum on it sounded like a good idea at the time...
Who do I have to blow to get one small dumbass turkey in this neighborhood?
And I'm sorry I called you an armpit. I didn't mean it. (I totally meant it.)
I celebrated by falling down the stairs in my office... Go me.
I mean, I don't want people yelling "FORNICATOR!" at me when I walk in, but something with a little less kissing.
Where the hell is all this pee coming from?
Oh, cruel fate. Why must you ream me?
I cannot poop on command.

So like, having fingernails is weird. I was trying to peel an orange and it was so difficult.

Since I am an audiophile of only the BAD MUSIC variety (see aforementioned love of Menudo and any song with the word "milkshake" and "yard" in it), I decided to invite Golfwidow to write something about the mix CD made for me, a 36 year old girl, by Jenjamin, a 42 year old man.

So I have been invited to the Hole of Pie, to slide in and put my thing down, as it were.

I like guest-blogging here. It gives me free rein to CAPS LOCK, not to mention using a lot of exclamation points, which I try to avoid on my own blog.

So anyway, this post is about a mix CD she sent me, entitled The Bennifer Mix.

Bennifer?

The hell?

I thought this was the All Jenjamin, All the Time Channel.

I guess she must have been running a fever.

Also, she didn't include any of the artists' names, and the songs were not in the same order on the label as they were on the actual CD.

So I have listed them in the exact order they did appear, with the artists' names, and have included my thoughts and takes on the songs themselves. Some of them I didn't know till I listened to the CD; some I had heard before.

These are, of course, my own opinions, so if you think I am wrong, I probably am, and you don't need to tell me, and you certainly don't need to get all up in Jennifer's comments about it, because it's Not Her Fault I Am Dumb.

Okay? Okay.

1. Any Trouble, Playing Bogart. Key lyrics: "Got that Friday 7:30 feeling in my bones" and "If you lose playing Bogart you're better off on your own, sit on my bed and smoke a single cigarette in the dark." I used to do that, before I quit smoking. The sitting on my bed thing, that is. I don't think I've ever lost at playing Bogart, except that I'd probably be all, "Are we playing Bogart? I want to be Katharine Hepburn in The African Queen!"
2. Big Sandy and His Fly-Rite Boys, The Night is for Dreamers. "Who put the magic in the wine?" "And for tonight, I found heaven here with you." Sweet electric guitar. This could just as easily have come off of one of my mother's music mixes, assuming she makes music mixes. I'm not saying it's old, it's just old-fashioned, the way the Stray Cats were old-fashioned. In a cool way.
3. Bill Kirchen, Which Came First. Too twangy. Bleh. This is not Happy Couple Music. This is defeatist-honky-tonk-beer-crying-into music. "I'll sit right here till the next one comes along ..."
4. Delbert McClinton, One of the Fortunate Few. "The best and the worst I ever had ... still, I consider myself one of the fortunate few." The "she" in this song is pretty high maintenance. I think this song is all about the hoobity. Delbert doesn't sound unhappy, he just sounds like he needs a nap, followed by lots of coffee.
5. Edwyn Collins, A Girl Like You. I like the bit about the hands bleeding and his rhyming of "my knees are raw" and "never met a girl like you before." He can get away with it because he is Scottish.
6. Hawksley Workman, No Sissies. His real name is Ryan Corrigan. He just had a birthday. I might have first heard this song on Scrubs, I think. It wouldn't surprise me. He's on there a lot. "Gotta be a strong man to carry the beautiful burden of your love." "You're tougher than the police when you pull me off the highway." I think I just learned a whole lot about Jennifer that maybe I wasn't necessarily on a need-to-know-basis for.
7. The Jayhawks, Settled Down Like Rain. I like the music, and the lyrics annoy the piss out of me. "Knock me down, pick me up, set me in a row." Settled down like bowling pins, more like. Seriously, though. How do they get off with all that "happy ever after" chorusing after the unresolved lines about the other person packing up their shit and sneaking out the back? The HELL?
8. Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros, Road to Rock 'n' Roll. I love the percussion in this song. However, when I "ask the music what it means", it tells me, "Just shut up and groove, you stupid bitch."
9. Ministry, Work for Love. It's very discolicious. However, considering I'm now officially on the D.O.L.E. (which stands for Department Of Labor Eejits), the metaphor of having to turn in a résumé to a potential sex partner is aggravating, especially if they then turn around and say they'll review it "some other day." Fine. Be like that. I'll just go work at the Burger King till you make up your mind. Don't try to outmetaphor ME.
10. The New Pornographers, All for Swinging You Around. (Oh, my gourd, if you haven't heard their cover of Toronto's Your Daddy Don't Know, you need to. Now. I'll wait here. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MfESZHY9Z4. See, you need the video because of her hair. It's CRIMPED.) Okay. Sorry. On with the actual song I was supposed to be listening to. Their stuff, all of it that I've heard, is designed for people like myself, who are Stuck in the '80s. All for Swinging You Around is kind of blatant about it, with lines like "remnants of a golden age that's near mint unplayed." I don't know if they're with me, or making fun of me. But it's good, so I don't care either way.
11. Peter, Björn, and John, Far Away, By My Side. By far, my favorite thing about this band is that their initials are PB&J, which will always be "peanut butter and jelly" to me. They sound like they want to be the love children that would happen if the Beatles mated with ABBA, but I think they fall a little short, as if John and Paul gave it their best shot, then said, "We're bored" and left partway through, and the A and the A from ABBA (i.e., the girls) said, "Whatever," but the BB bit (Benny and the original Björn) got really depressed and wrote the Broadway show Mamma Mia to prove Dey R Serious Muzishuns and Dis R Serious Thread. Peter, Björn, and John took their cue from this, rather than blatantly trying to be the next ABBA .:coffaceofbasecoff:. which would be great, except that none of it ever happened except in my head, just now. Like fan fiction. Or like I just need to cut back on the caffeine.
12. The Redwalls, How the Story Goes. I'm glad I'm not a Ben or a Jennifer, because I'd be reading, like, WAY TOO MUCH into these lyrics. "Think of me and you know it, I'm not for anyone." Another depressing one about not loving and not caring, but again, the guitar is so very sweet.
13. Semisonic, Singing in My Sleep. It's not bad; it's catchy, but it's not some undiscovered immortal classic or anything. The lyrics, however, put this song over the top into the category of Must Be Included on Every Mix Ever, From Now On, Forever. Really. Look: "I’ve been living in your cassette, it’s the modern equivalent of singing up to a Capulet on a balcony in your mind." How many cassette mixes did I make, years and years ago, where I poured my whole soul into them so I could "be with" the feathered-haired boy du jour while he was driving? This is the lyric that embodies that experience. With Shakespeare references! Also, I love the line about "pray to Sony my soul to keep."
14. Solomon Burke, The Judgement. Elvis Costello cowrote this, and I am terribly fond of Elvis Costello. The perfect length for a song of unrequited love — it gives you enough time to be all, aw, that poor guy, but ends before you start wanting to kill yourself.
15. Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Timorous Me. Was it necessary to make the vocabulary word of the day be a pun off the song heroine's name (Timory)? You might have gotten away with it if you hadn't been so blatant about your whole "I said 'timorous' and you didn't neener neener neener" attitude, and your more-subtle-but-still-there ripping off of Thin Lizzy's riffs and beats.

I'm going to throw in a bonus You Tube, too. Not from this playlist. Nothing to do with this mix. I just have always personally liked this song (it's from the musical Hair) and this is my new favorite version of it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUcXI2BIUOQ

And now back to your regularly scheduled Piehole, already in session.