Chicken Butt

Is there a bar in this skum bucket town?

For years I've had the ghost of a chorus from a Jermaine Jackson song about rain drifting around in my head. I remembered that I liked it. I remembered it had something about falling rain in the chorus. I remembered liking the song, but not nearly enough to buy the album. (Yes, this was early college and vinyl was my favorite format.) What I did not remember was this totally 80s extravaganza. Over six minutes of West Side Story plot with crazy costumes, big hair, white leather and white motorcycles. 

The song is "When the Rain Begins to Fall." I can finally stop trying to figure out what that song was. I still think the chorus is catchy. Maybe in another 19 years I'll listen to this song again.

If you find the setup as painful as I did, skip to 2:33, that where the chorus starts. Oh, did I mention it's a duet with Pia Zadora?

Geeking out with my bad self

Now that I can wear normal sizes (yes, I call mens XXL normal) I've been buying t-shirts like a mad woman. I've had to slow myself down. I have more than enough geeky t-shirts for the weekends, but not enough to cover my upcoming vacation in Ashtabula. I fully expect these shirts to become too large within the year, so I am trying to save some of the super cool designs I've seen for later. I do need to find a nice Obama '08 shirt though.

Sticky, but not stinky

I love not having to wear socks to work. Love. It. It is hard for me to find non-sandal, non-athletic type shoes appropriate for work that have the right support for my injury-prone feet. I love my new Merrell blue suede mary-janes:

(Image modified because my cell phone camera sucks and the picture was blurry/grainy anyways, why not make it interesting.)

I just wish my feet weren’t so sweaty. If I don’t kick off my shoes while I’m at my desk I start squeaking when I walk. Or is it squelching? Whatever, tiny audible pit fart noises accompany me down the halls. Even as I turn into my mother, constantly putting on layers to keep the chill off, I still have my dad’s sweaty feet. Look for me in coordinated parka and flip flops (coming soon to a theater near you.)

I hope this post doesn’t bring the hoards of seekers that my toe tattoo pictures did. I hate to type those words, but the fetishists have already found me. I keep meaning to keep a list of some of the funny search terms that have brought people to Chicken Butt. When I do I’ll put them in an image so it doesn’t bring even more traffic. I do not like that I’m self-censoring now.