I have been walking around with a head full of Flight of the Conchords snippets for a couple of months. Last night I went to their show at Radio City**, and today...well, I sometimes find that I am singing the stirring finale of Sellotape under my breath. (Browwwwn paper, whiiiite paper, stick it together with the tape! The tape of love...ooh, the sticky stuff... {repeat a million times} )
When you have a ton of chickens, AND the chickens have a blog, your mental state may be regarded as 'slightly suspect.' Let me tell you that singing passionately under your breath does not help your case.
So it simply completes the picture that I am singing TO THE CHICKENS about 'browwwwn paper, whiiiite paper,' etc. Also about Business Time. Also the heartfelt "Roxanne"-type ballad, You Don't Have to Be a Prostitute.
If only I had parrots instead of chickens, they could eventually sing these things back to me.
* * Note: Since I am not originally from New York (or aware of things that are popular), the first I heard of Radio City Music Hall was several years ago. A co-worker proposed that we go as a group to see the "Radio City Music Hall Christmas Show."
This gridlock of nouns shut down my entire brain. I tried and failed to parse it into sense. "Radio City" would not compute... 'Radio' and 'Music' seemed to go together, as did 'City' and 'Hall,' but those words were not next to each other, and they didn't get me any further, anyway: "Radio Music City Hall?" Were "Radio" and "City" both adjectives that applied to "Music?" And then the whole incomprehensible pile-up was topped off with "Christmas Show." What?? It was unintelligible. I just stared stupidly back, slack-jawed. The conversation ground to a halt. Eventually I scraped together the following cogent response to the invitation:
"That's all nouns."
The concern for my mental state MAY have predated the chicken blog.
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