All about them scales (parody lyrics)

 

I’ve always enjoyed parodizing things when I had a fun idea, so here’s another one based on “All About that Bass”

I’ve got more here and here.

 

Because you know I’m all about them scales
’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales

Yeah, it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no cockatoo
But I can roar it, roar it like I’m suopposed to do
’cause I got that rough skin that all the birds miss
All the right claws and all the sharp teeth
I see the scientists, making up stuff and shit
We know that shit ain’t real
Come on now, make it stop
If you got teeth and claws just tear ’em up
‘Cause every scale of you is perfect
From the tail right to the top
Yeah, John Hammond he told me he spared no expense at all
He said, dinos don’t quack, chirp or produce some other bird calls
You know I won’t be no pigeon or stupid ass budgerigar
So if that’s what you’re into then go hug a mosasaur

Because you know I’m all about them scales…

Home in your dreams

This one came to me when Sara Amundson tweeted a pre-flash-fiction-reading selfie of her at home, stating that was “where the Murdercorn wig lives”.

It, quite obviously, can be sung1 to the tune of Home on the Range

Oh, give me a home where the Murdercorn roam
And the gore and the entrails, they spray
Where often is heard a bloodcurdling word
And the children cry out in dismay.


Chorus:

Hunt, hunt in your dreams
Where the gore and the entrails, they spray
Where often is heard a bloodcurdling word
And the children cry out in dismay.

The peace it was pressed from the place you get rest
It’s not likely it’ll ever return
To the dreams in your slumber where monsters now lumber
And everything to nightmares they turn.

Chorus
But don’t be afraid, someone comes to your aid
To put an end to the monsters you dream
They hunt the jabberwock all around the clock
To make sure the human race is safe.

Chorus

My brain works in mysterious ways.

What is that all about?

Well, Sara Amundson, the original Murdercorn and mother of monsters ((whom you should totally follow on twitter)) is working on publishing her Urban Fantasy trilogy Dreamer.
It’s all about monsters coming alive from nightmares. Some of those exist as flash fiction2 and some even as video readings.

You know the mother of dragons:

 

where are my dragons

But do you know the mother of monsters?

where are my monsters

Footnotes
  1. more or less []
  2. and you can totally request your own. I got one! []

Let it flow!

So I tried to pump out some parody lyrics for today’s blog. First I wanted to turn “Baby got Back” into something brass related. I like big brass and I cannot lie. But I don’t even like the song.

So I decided to fall on my backup plan. Turn “Let it go” into a pee-song.1

Halfway through I realized I wouldn’t even have to change that much and stopped. So have this bit and a few gifs.

The lake glows blue in the valley right,
Not a toilet to be seen.
No room of isolation,
and it looks like I’ll be seen
The flood is pressing like this qushing spring inside
Couldn’t hold it in;
Heaven knows I’ve tried

Don’t let them in,
don’t let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don’t feel,
don’t let them know
Well now they know

Let it flow, let it flow
Can’t hold it back anymore

Let it flow, let it flow
Go right in and slam the door
I don’t care
what they’re going to say
Let the flood stream out
The wet never bothered me anyway

See?

Footnotes

  1. Yes, I’m immature. []

Olli’s Saturday School – Einkommensteuererklärung

This was sort of what I did today. Except, being German, my taxes are different. I guess.

Let’s start with a few explanations: I am working full time, so my employer deducts my taxes directly from my salary. Taxes, payment for some social security stuff. They don’t deduct health insurance stuff because I’m in private healthcare. So in fact they pay me a little more because they’re obligated to pay half of my health insurance costs. To a certain degree.

The biggest chunk they keep from my salary is the earnings tax or Lohnsteuer.
They give that directly to our equivalent of the IRS, the Finanzamt.

Since the taxes of employees are paid in advance, we have up to four years to file our taxes, depending on the exact situation, which I wont bore you with. But because I hate keeping track of documents and want it to be done as soon as possible, I usually do it end of February every year.

My Einkommensteuererklärung (literally income tax statement). I could do it by hand, filling in forms the Finanzamt provides, but I prefer to do it via a software that costs me 15 bucks a year. If I wasn’t so bad at keeping track of certain invoices, I could claim a refund for that, too.

The software tells me where to find the information on the paperwork I get from my employer, so most of it is pretty easy to fill.
I tell the Finanzamt how much money I made. How much in income tax and church tax my employer already paid. How much money went into benefits. How much money they gave me to cover costs driving to and from work.

Then I have to tell them (and in some cases file receipts) about my professional expenses or Werbungskosten. Which is a nasty words because it translates to advertising cost and should be Erwerbskosten. Costs related to me making a living.
Clothes or work materials I have to by, travel expenses for business trips, that sort of stuff.
Any other tax allowable expenses like certain types of insurance, maintenance costs for my living arrangements, costs related to the care of sick or old relatives, etc etc etc.

Why we do that? Well, in my case, in a few weeks or months, depending how busy the Finanzamt will be, I will get what we call a Lohnsteuerrückzahlung. An income tax refund. I’ll probably get mine in April or May.

This year I’m expecting something in the very low four figures, which is pretty good.

 

Oh, and you should totally check out Goat Milk Stuff on Youtube or Twitter. Don’t forget Brett Jonas herself, singer and star of the video this blog post started with. ;-)

We are the Borg

There comes a time when we hear a certain call
When the ‘verse must come together as one
There are races trying
And its time to send the cubes to Earth

The greatest gift of all

We can’t go on pretending day by day
That someone, will soon make a change
We are all a part of a great Borg family
And the truth, you know,
Borg is all we need

We are the Borg, we are the Collective
We are the drones who make a brighter day
So lets assimilate
We will add all of your
Bio and techie
Distinctiveness to ours.
Adapt or die!

You have no choice, your culture will adapt
And you will service the Borg forever!
We will assimilate you, become one with us.
All resistance is futile in the end!

When you’re facing is, there is no hope at all
Buit if you do believe you can escape our grasp, wel wel wel well
Please do realize resistance is futile
So let’s stand together as one

WE ARE THE BORD! WE ARE THE COLLECTIVE!

All the right fur in all the right places

Because you know I’m all about that box,
‘Bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box

Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no LOLcat
But I can purr it, purr it like I’m supposed to do
‘Cause I got that meow meow that all the kits chase
All the right fur in all the right places

I see the videos with all them kittycats
We know that shit ain’t real
Come on meow, make it stop
If you got fluffy pawsies, just raise ’em up
‘Cause every inch of you is furry
From the bottom to the top
Yeah, my momma she told me don’t worry about your size
Sit in boxes you hardly fit into it just feels right
You know I won’t be no match-stick leg skinny-ass Greyhound dog,

So, if that’s what’s you’re into
I’ll stick my head inside a hole

Because you know I’m all about that box,
‘Bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box

I’m bringing cuddly back
Go ahead and tell them skinny kittens meow
No, I’m just purring I know you think I’m fat,
But I’m here to tell you that,
Every inch of me is furry from the bottom to the top
Yeah, my momma she told me don’t worry about your size
Sit in boxes you hardly fit into it just feels right
You know I won’t be no match-stick leg skinny-ass Greyhound dog,

So, if that’s what’s you’re into
I’ll stick my head inside a hole

Because you know I’m all about that box,
‘Bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box, no catbed
I’m all ’bout that box, ’bout that box

stu_2014 031

Last Christmas

Oh god, there it is. Every year when Christmas draws near, we listen varily to the radio programmes, hoping to avoid it, until at one point that one song comes on.

Pretty much everyone in the office at work hates it. Except one coworker who turns it up. “What’s your problem? I like that song!”

Wham!’s Last Christmas1

A while ago Emmie Mears who is totally awesome, you should follow her on twitter and read her book ranted a bit about it and I got an idea.

 

So, here goes!

Last Christmas
I cut off Wham!’s head
But the very next day it grew back on
This year
To save all our ears
I’ll try to do something special. 

Once listened, ne’er forgot
I keep my distance
But I still catch the song
On the radio
I do recognize it!
Well,
It’s been a year,
It doesn’t surprise me
(Merry Christmas)

I hacked it off up and sent it
With a note saying, “I hate it”
I meant it
Now I know what a fool I’ve been.
But if they sang it now
I know I’d try it again.

Last Christmas
I cut off Wham!’s head
But the very next day it grew back on
This year
To save all our ears
I’ll try to do something special.

Oh, oh, baby.

A crowded room,
Friends with tired ears.
I’m hiding from it
From that tune from hell
My god I thought it was finally over
No! I guess I need a shoulder to cry on.
That song on the radio, brings pain to my heart

I wish I could just go and tear the it apart, ooh-hoo
I could play a good song, I’d never hear you again
That song on the radio, brings pain to my heart (I’ll cut off Wham’s head)

I’ll grab them and kill them, and tear them apart
Maybe next year I’ll give it to someone
I’ll give it to someone special.

Disclaimer: I do not endorse anyone being hurt just because of that song, I do endorse switching the radio station or turning off any audio equipment and screaming at whoever put that thing on.

 

Footnotes
  1. I don’t even know if they just covered it and I can’t be bothered to look []

The Next Generation music (bad pun intended)

What if Status Quo had rocked the mid-2nd millenium instead of…ya know?

A paid vacation on an asteroid
Captain Kirk flies into the void
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Now you remember what the draft man said
Don’t wear a red shirt or you are dead
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

You’ll be a hero of the whole quadrant
A five year patrol is all you want
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Alien faces as you wait to land
But once you get there no one gives a damn
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Photo torpedo flying over your head

Phaser beam flying over your head
If you want to survive beam out of bed
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Exploding console in the dead of night
The ensign calls : “Stand up and fight!”
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

You’ve got your phasers set to kill
Your finger’s on the LCARS but you’re not sure you will
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Light’s are failing and the ship’s a wreck
Is this illusion or a holodeck?
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

 

Or maybe the Village People?

Where can you find pleasure
Search the ‘verse for treasure
Learn science technology…

Uh. I think that one already IS all about starfleet.

 

Olli’s Saturday School – Let the music play

How about some neat words about the instrument I play?
It’s this one:
A tuba. Or Tuba in German.1
It’s a brass wind, or what we a Blechblasinstrument.
Due to its size friends of me called it Mülleimer = trashcan occasionally.
Or Musikalischer Auspuff. That’s German for musical exhaust pipe.
They were just teasing me. In fact you can do a lot of funny things with it, just as with every other instrument. It’s rather heavy though, sometimes I wish I’d learned the trombone or Posaune instead.
The tuba is situated somewhere in the back, among the group we call tiefes Blech or low brass. Although the word Blech actually means sheet metal, often in a condescending or demeaning way. Blech reden – to talk metal is an expression that means to say something that’s nonsense or dumb or inappropriate.
The actual word for the material brass is Messing.
Really, I’m not messing around here. I WAS messing around on twitter earlier, look!
Footnotes
  1. Ha! []

Tweeting in the Dark

A quick google and a few tweaks later1 I had the first few verses and chorus of a re-imagining of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep.

Here’s a quick reminder to what it sounds like:

Tweeting in the dark

There’s desire starting in my heart
Reaching for my phone, I’m checking it in the dark
Finally I can see it crystal clear
The screen is lighting up and it’ll lay your shit bare!
See how I read it, every tweet of you
Don’t underestimate the things that I tweet you

There’s desire starting in my heart
Reaching for my phone,
I’m checking it in the dark

The scars on my nose remind me of it
They keep me thinking that I almost had it all
The scars on my nose, they leave me breathless
I can’t help feeling
On my face the phone would fall
(You’re gonna wish you never followed me)
Tweeting in the dark
(Phones are gonna fall, tweeting in the dark)
I had my phone inside of my hand
(You’re gonna wish you never followed me)
And you faved it, to the tweet
(Phones are gonna fall, tweeting in the dark)

Footnotes
  1. yes, I was at work, but I couldn’t stop myself []