Friday, December 07, 2007


If there's a cure for this
I don't want it
Don't want it
If there's a remedy
I'll run from it
From it

Think about it all the time
Never let it out of my mind
'Cause I love you

I've got the sweetest hangover
I don't wanna get over
Sweetest hangover

Yeah, I don't wanna get over
I don't wanna get
I don't wanna get...over

Ooh, I don't need no cure
I don't need no cure
I don't need no cure

Sweet lovin'
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love

Don't call a doctor
Don't call her momma
Don't call her preacher

No, I don't need it
I don't want it

Sweet love, I love you
Sweet love, need love

If there's a cure for this
I don't want it
I don't want it no
If there's a cure for this
I don't need it

Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love

You know, I realized a few things while searching for these lyrics:

1) There's a horrific possibility that a millipede with a thousand legs of fire is weaving in and out of my orbital sockets.

2) Either that or it's a sadistic, spike-heeled leprechaun named Seamus P. O'Connor.

3) Although I adore Ms. Diana Ross, and have enjoyed listening to "Love Hangover" in the past, I never fully understood just how stupid the lyrics are until this morning.

4) Oh, god, now Seamus is riding the back of the fiery, thousand-legged millipede, and he's singing "O Danny Boy" in an annoying, off-kilter tenor.

5) I'm in a world of hurt.

6) Many sites that offer song lyrics are run by goofs who wouldn't know an apostrophe if it hit them in their slack-jawed faces.

7) Due to Seamus and his trusty steed, Wildfire, I have no goddamned patience to go through and correct the goofs' grammatically incorrect lyrics. I just want to cut and paste, people. Cut and freaking paste.

8) I had to visit no less than five sites to find ONE webmaster/mistress that understands and employs basic proper grammar.

9) Okay, I'm at the point where I definitely need that doctor. And her momma.

10) Her preacher, however, may stay far, far away. What I need is an exorcist, man.


At 8:55 PM, Blogger Rabbitch said...

The correct plural of "goof" is "gooves".

You're welcome.

At 2:06 PM, Anonymous said...

gerry rosser here at
Google/Blogger apparently does not want anyone not a google blogger to have an identity. Fuckers.

I haven't abandoned you. I read your posts. I just haven't felt clever, and don't dare post anything here that ain't clever.

So how did I get the nerve to post this? Hmmm.

At 11:22 PM, Blogger Redneck Nerdboy! said...

I want to meet you. Seriously.

At 1:10 AM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Look, skank, I didn't ask for your input...

But I'll SO take it! Thanks, baby. Gooves it is. ;-)

Aw, Gerry Rosser from twobluday, I heart you for getting up the nerve, huns. Lord knows I appreciate the effort. ;-)

Jas, well then, get yer fine redneck buttocks over here! Tats and beer on me, bro.

At 6:23 AM, Blogger bevjackson said...

Just dropped by to wish you tidings of whatever you're into these days...long time, no see. May the spirit be with you. (since it's not with me). Love your posts.

At 9:12 PM, Anonymous said...

I posted today thinking of all the fine strong women I've "met" while blogging, and you were on my mind.
You might not get to watch the little videos until you have roadrunner.

At 10:50 AM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Bev! So good to hear from you!

The spirits I'm into lately, btw, have nothing to do with the metaphysical, and everything to do with hops and barley.

Gerry, thank you...WONDERFUL song.


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