Monday, December 17, 2007

7 Days of Bah Humbug!

Ever get a song stuck in your head that won't let go?

That's what happened to me this weekend. The song "Little Boxes", by Malvina Reynolds is the theme song for the show Weeds, which airs on Showtime. We don't actually get Showtime, but we saw Season 1 and 2 on DVD this year and laughed our heinies off. It also has a kickin' soundtrack, which somebody is getting for Xmas.

Here is the song and credits:




Anyway, I got that song stuck in my head yesterday while I was wrapping presents and packing boxes to take to the post office.

Little boxes, on the hillside...

Since Sunday is football day, Hubby ensconced himself in the loft with his new love---Sunday Ticket----where he can watch a truckload of games. So from 11am to about 9pm, the only time I saw him is when he came down to forage like a bear 2 weeks away from hibernation.

I sat at the breakfast bar wrapping stuff and watched a parade of food go back upstairs with him. BBQ wings. Chips. Cheese dip. BBQ peanuts. Beer.

In the middle of the night I was dreaming that I was stretched out on a grassy hill watching Malvina Reynolds in concert and she was singing "Little Boxes" accompanied only by her guitar.

Little boxes, on the hillside...
Little boxes made of ticky tacky...


Suddenly I heard a da-da-d-d-d-d-d-da-pop-pop!

Somebody had joined her on the drums. Although they weren't exactly on beat. I craned my neck to see down to the stage.

Little boxes, on the hillside...
And they all look just the same...


A trombone section started in. Boy were they loud! And not terribly on key. I wished they'd stop. They were ruining the song!

Unexpectedly, I noticed a foul stench seeping up from the stage. People close up were retching and fainting from lack of oxygen. I sat up quickly to run away, but I couldn't get to my feet. I was stuck to the grass.

And then I woke up. I was sitting on the edge of my bed at 3:45am, gagging my head off.

Hubby was blissfully snoring away, ripping a BBQ peanut and beer fume-powered hole in the ozone layer the size of a Humvee. I hauled my butt out of the room as fast as I could, catching my pinky-toe on the door jamb on the way out.

AAAAIIIGGHGHHHHGHGHGH!!!

Mayhem ensued. But everybody got back to sleep at about 4:15. Except me.

Let me tell you, the couch is damned uncomfortable! Next Sunday, if Hubby even LOOKS at a beer or cheese or anything BBQ, that's where he'll be sleeping!

I've got the huzz just thinking about it!

On the sixth day of humbug, Santa left for me

Hubby's buttocks blasting,
5 chin hairs,
4 exploding Snapples,
3 opened cans of frosting,
2 dead pens
and a lump of coal for under my tree.

13 comments:

litzi said...

Hi Attila,
I remember hearing Pete Seeger’s version of “Little Boxes” on the radio in 1962. Malvina Reynolds wrote this song as she was leaving Berkeley and driving through Daly City, California (a suburb of San Francisco) because the houses built on the hillside reminded her of “ticky-tacky little boxes” which to her signified the conformity that plagued the Nation at the time. This song was used as yet another pro-communism 1960’s protest song whose meaning went far deeper than mere political activism. Several of Pete Seeger’s songs were filled with social commentary against the Government and support for the Civil Rights and antiwar movements. He was blacklisted in the late 1950’s by the House Committee on Un-American Activities.

Why don’t you try dousing your hubbies food with “Beano”, the natural enzyme supplement that can help prevent gas, bloating and other digestive problems; it might help you get a better nights sleep!

Brenda said...

You are extremely lucky that he doesn't also like pickled eggs and/or pickled okra cause those two little snacks will make the whole house reek. Similar to what I'd imagine hell must smell like,,,you know,,,the sulfur.

Angela said...

I still wonder how one person can stink up a whole room. My hubby sure can.

Jennifer McKenzie said...

I have a dog that does that honor while my husband is out of town.

Lola Magnolia said...

Interesting dream, hon. Sometimes I have weird dreams after eating something strange. Perhaps your hubby isn't the only one who should stay away from certain foods?! ;)

I like that song and I like the show although I have never watched it consistently and I haven't seen it in awhile. I think it was this last season, where they ran a contest for people to send in their versions of that song and they'd play a different one each week. Or something like that. I do recall hearing it in Spanish once while watching the show.

I've also heard that the neighborhood where it's filmed in San Diego was affected by those fires a month or so ago. Just a little TV trivia for you.

Queen of the Mayhem said...

That is SO wrong! Mr. Mayhem does that sort of thing to me on a number of occasions...and frankly, I do NOT appreciate it! :)


I am always getting a song stuck in my head....it sometimes drives me crazy!!!!!

golfwidow said...

I believe your husband's physical reaction to the chicken is known to the medical profession as "Wind Beneath My Wings."

Manda said...

All I can say is ROFLMAO.

TOM said...

Nothing says Holiday's like Hubby's exploding Buttocks!!

Hope he's a New England Patriots Fan!!

Merry XMAS and Happy New Year

special k said...

And people wonder why I stay single.

Mary said...

I told my husband that if he ever wanted human contact again, he would stop gaseous emissions (at least while awake). Totally possible to control.

"It is?" He was amazed.

But I meant it. Now if he has combustion building, it remains internal.

Beth said...

I'm dying to see how you're going to top this one!

Dorky Dad said...

All I have to say is, thank God that I don't know the song you're speaking of. Otherwise I'd have it in my head. Then I'd have to go over there to kill you for putting it in my head.

And Thank God my wife doesn't snore.