Top of the World - Shonen Knife

Very little to say about this, except that it is in heavy contention for the happiest, sunshiniest, poppiest, most joyous song I've ever heard. Take Karen Carpenter's original, performed with measured contentedness and a sprightly but low-key beat. Now let an all-female power pop/punk group from Japan grab hold and blast through it.

Shonen Knife doesn't care that their rhythms might be a bit off, or that they can't quite sing "world" right, what with its tricky "rl" combination. That's what make it so fun. They power through "Top of the World" with such unabashed playfulness, it's impossible not to enjoy it. Or dance like a Muppet or a Peanuts character with it. For me, songs like this, even more than Nirvana, guaranteed that the 1990s would not suck.

From "If I Were A Carpenter":



A slightly edgier live version complete with lyrics:

An evening in the life...

Because this is what y'all live for, right? A glimpse into the dark underbelly of yours truly. And how exciting could this get? Strap yourselves in.

What makes this evening, November 18th:

• Juno. Or at least the last 30 minutes of it. I have a bad habit of watching movies in fits and spurts. I started Juno about a month ago, and have been, give or take, watching it 30 minutes at a time. And the good news about this is that you can successfully watch it this way - in fact, I almost recommend it over seeing this in one sitting. Two things make it this way. First, anything Minnesota-related moves at a slower and more comfortable pace than in many other states. Even Minneapolis. So you can get into it easily. And although I'm a huge fan of snark, Juno herself is eons beyond. Small doses go a looooong way.
• Purple potatoes. Cookin' 'em as I type. Should be ready in about 20 minutes. That's my dinner. Why? Well...
• Some weird virus. I've been fighting something or other for a while. HATE sore throats. It reared its ugly head last night. Won't bore you with the details (and they really are boring, not gruesome...do I really need to describe what a fever feels like?), but they were debilitating enough to necessitate me calling off work this morning. And a workout. And a meeting with four people about my business. (One that was already rescheduled.) The day was just filled with exciting naps and naps. And when I get sick, I generally don't eat much. But for some reason, these purple potatoes on the counter were calling me. I'll tell you how they are in a bit.
• Kathy Griffin: Whores on Crutches. I'm not one of "Kathy's gays." But I do enjoy her comedy.
• Rebel Without a Cause. Will go on shortly after KG. One of the most influential movies in my life. Srsly. Through most of high school, I wore button-down shirts and Dockers almost exclusively. A friend of mine once asked me to sing "Runaround Sue" with him in our high school talent show. In 1950s drag: t-shirts and jeans. Except I didn't have any jeans. Fact! But after watching James Dean in action, all that Alexander Julian and Polo became obsolete overnight. T-shirts and jeans were ALL I wore the following year. And that movie, for some reason, just liberated me.
• Kiss. The Prince song. One of my friends who lives in Longmont raved about a new karaoke venue up there, in a nice, spacious auditorium. So a bunch of us boys from the local gay choir drove up 40 miles late last night to warble. Won't exaggerate: I sang "Kiss," and brought the muthafuckin' house DOOOWN. And this was amongst the likes of Luther Vandross, Phantom, Josh Groban, and Patsy Cline. A few guys didn't think I could pull off the high notes at the end. Pfft. Whatever. (Other songs I sang that were hits: Rufus Wainwright's version of "Halleujah" and Michael Buble's "Sway.")

Oh, and the purple potatoes? Not bad.

He kissed me...it felt like a hit.

Okay, all you Gleeks. This last episode SUUUCKED. Or rather, it would have, if it weren't for the stellar plotline following Kurt and his tribulations with being bullied. Or even more so, his suddenly finding his version of Hogwarts for gay boys and an absolute dreamboat named Blaine.

I go back and forth on this one. See, I understand the import of the "Teenage Dream" sequence, wherein Blaine and his fellow (all-male) glee clubbers serenade directly to Kurt, complete with knowing smiles, winks, and all other manner of good-natured flirting. God, this was adorable. Gay boys around the country now have, for posterity, a concrete vision of possible romance going right. (Read more from my compatriots Tom & Lorenzo, who really brought down how revolutionary this episode was.)

But at the same time, the guy in me who understands that Glee is nothing if not unrealistic still felt his guts go gooey in the most amazing way during another scene.

Yeah. That locker room scene. HOT HOT HOT.

That kiss. So violent and passionate. THAT'S the kind of kiss that would have sent me WAAAY over the moon back in the day. Not to mention the exact surroundings, and the exact type of guy. A slightly dopey, overgrown linebacker...who turned out to be gay, and quite possibly totally into me? Swoon. Seriously. That was my high school fantasy.

Kurt and I are most decidedly not cut from the same cloth. He shoved that galoot away when he tried to go in for a second kiss, and totally should have. Me, I would have thrown all caution to the wind, gone in for seconds, and within 2 minutes, we would have been caught up in some wild-ass monkey sex.