Just like Jerry Kilgore, it seems, I get the occasional hankering for Dairy Queen Blizzards. (More on our potential governor later.) In fact it may or may not have been one of the reasons I used a sick day last week. I held off from making the DQ run until mid-afternoon but eventually caved and headed to the one in Bailey's Crossroads. Upon walking through the door, I was greeted with the sight of several elderly couples enjoys their MooLates and Peanut Buster® Parfaits and the calming diapason of Lil' Jon & the Eastside Boyz.
TO THE WINDOW, TO THE WALL! TO THE SWEAT DRIP DOWN MY BALLS! SKEET! SKEET! SKEET!
Yikes! It was blasting loud too. Here's the video. Here's the lyrics. Young people (employees, Nabob) were head bobbing. Old people seemed mildly annoyed, though I think this was a generic response to loud hip-hop instead of an actual comprehension of the lyrics.
Remember when CB4 came out and the most vulgar song they could come up with was Sweat From My Balls? (And the biggest rock performer they could get to talk about it was Gibby Haynes from the Butthole Surfers?) Whatever happened to those innocent days? Those were alright times.
Skeet.
Jesus.
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1 comment:
In high school, Gibby Haynes was always on my list of "people I most wanted to meet."
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