I’m a rocket man.
“All this science I don't understand, it's just my job five days a week.”
Driving home today, I was struck by those lyrics from Rocket Man. Should Emma Lewis ever besmirch her fine ivory epidermis with a tattoo, I would choose to have those very words inscribed somewhere about my bum-bum.
Of course, if I were to go down that path, those words would have to compete with my Steve Winwood 'Chronicles' album cover tattoo for pride of place in my anogenital region... but I digress.
Hearing Rocket Man also reminded me of the Shatner version...
...which in turn reminded me of the Stewie version...
...which in turn had me reaching for the Tena ladies on the Tullamarine freeway.
Driving home today, I was struck by those lyrics from Rocket Man. Should Emma Lewis ever besmirch her fine ivory epidermis with a tattoo, I would choose to have those very words inscribed somewhere about my bum-bum.
Of course, if I were to go down that path, those words would have to compete with my Steve Winwood 'Chronicles' album cover tattoo for pride of place in my anogenital region... but I digress.
Hearing Rocket Man also reminded me of the Shatner version...
...which in turn reminded me of the Stewie version...
...which in turn had me reaching for the Tena ladies on the Tullamarine freeway.
posted by FEMBOTanist at Tuesday, August 01, 2006
1 Comments:
why not bismirch your fine ivory bum-bum with those lyrics in chinese (or a close approximation, somthing along the lines of 'science, I am dumb, 5 days in the graveyard') and we could be sistahs... Go on, you know you want to. I'll even get 'scientist' added to mine...
then I'll be the 'cute scientist at the funeral'. Seems oddly appropriate...
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