Thursday, March 13, 2008

Supergrass Lyric Predicted Spitzer Scandal

Got my hobnails
I got the jitter shakes
Diamond Hoo Ha Man
I do what it takes

All I got, is all I need
Oh, but what I really want
Is in my dreams
When the sun goes down
I just can't resist
BITE ME!

Got to get you in my suitcase
Oh, can't you see
I want you
Got to get you in my suitcase

I'm going to hightail
To the motel
Love you all night long
Oh my baby bell

All I got, is all I need
Oh, but what I really want
Is in my dreams
When you hold me down
I just can't resist
BITE ME!

I got to get you in my suitcase
It's duty free, I gotcha
Now I got you in my suitcase

When the sun goes down
I just can't resist

BITE ME!


Diamond Hoo Ha Man (YouTube link)
Supergrass

4 comments:

I'm Bill White said...

Supergrass is so good, they willed the Spitzer scandal.

Anonymous said...

WTF?

Jeet's batting .222, and you guys are piddlianting over Supergrass lyrics?

We are 6-6 on the season. We are going nowhere right now. Nowhere. Right. Now.

Even Shelley drawing blood didn't wake this team up. I thought this blog stood for something. I thought this blog was going to hold accountable the Yankees for poor play, and it would form a unifying prism through which the team could come together as a unit under a new, young manager who needs all the help he can get... but no. You guys want to write about the lyrics of a group that openly advocates the use of "mary jane." And don't think I don't know what that means.

Superfrankenstein, you once stood for something. Et tu?

I'm Bill White said...

You wait. One day, Supergrass will write a song about Schilling's c-cups. Then you'll realize the truth.

I'm Bill White said...

And let's be honest. People can focus on the .500 record, Duncan's slide, and Jeet's .222 average, but what I take from that game is something that sets the tone for the full One-Sixty-Two.

Bobby Meacham's ejection.

You didn't see Bowa run into the line of fire like that. Sure, he ran to the cameras like Chuck Schumer to say how the new protective base coach helmets were for wimps, but that kind of machismo is for show, and deep down in places he doesn't like to talk about at parties, he never showed Meach's grit while patrolling the 3rd base line for Joe.

Here me now, Meach's ejection will go down as the spark in this young season -- a defining moment that one day will be burned into our collective consciousness and onto commemorative championship edition DVDs.

Meach is back.