You! What if I were to tell you that I have, within my reach – and, most importantly, absolutely free of charge! – the power to tell you about your immediate future?
What would that be worth to you, purely in the name of gratitude and/or the desire to keep me away from your front door, like I told the cops I would? Would you buy my first booklet (see PayPal link to the right!)? Would you pop by and mash up some of that delicious guacamole you keep talking about?
What ever you decide to do, just know that ol’ Pearl is here for you.
Shh. Let’s listen.
Game of Pricks by Guided By Voices
Lonely Boy by The Black Keys
Rudie Can’t Fail by The Clash
Things You Can Do by TV on the Radio
Sequestered in Memphis by The Hold Steady
Open Sesame, Pt. 2 by Kool and The Gang
Say Hey (I Love You) by Michael Franti and Spearhead
And there you have it: it’s a game of pricks, lonely boy. Rudie can’t fail, there are things you can do! Sequestered in Memphis? Well, open sesame because, hey! I love you!
And yes. We’re going to stick with that.
Back when new clothes meant Levis and a red sweater (Go, Cardinals!) and I semi-regularly stunk of sliced onions (stupid sandwich shop), the worst thing you could call someone was a “poser”, or, its more upscale term, a “poseur”.
Posers were sad, confused creatures who lip-synched to records during school-wide talent shows and spoke with British accents despite having lived their whole lives in the Midwestern United States.
But why, you ask yourself, is this an issue? Am I quitting my job to take up full-time lip-synching? Am I finally through practicing my British accent, ready to bring it to the world?
Nope. Better.
Ladies and gentlemen, MC Mutter is back on the bus.
Do you know Mr. Mutter? You may even have one in your city. Look around! There he is, hunched forward, eyes narrowed with concentration, grooving to his iPod, his lips moving along to a song only he can hear.
“Awww-huh-huh-huh. Awwwwwwwwwwww yeah.”
Oh, yeah? And a ring-a-ding-ding to you, too, big fella.
The poor li’l SOB. I feel for him. Because I know – being just as delusional myself but too self-conscious to make it manifest on a public bus – that he believes that we are looking at him, not because he’s rocking back and forth, lips twitching, approaching what just may be an epileptic seizure, but because we admire his rhythm, his musical talent, his flow.
The girl sitting next to him is posing, too, and will be reading for the part of Rapper’s Girl #3. She's put effort into that outfit. Frankly, that’s a whole lot of cleavage happening for 6:24 a.m.
The man sitting across from that pair is having a hard time reading his paper today.
Just wait until she stands up again – did you know that her butt is “Juicy”?
At least that’s what the seat of her pants say.
They got off at the light rail, those two, no doubt taking their show to the Mall of America, where they will impress others of their kind, gathering in rambunctious groups of saggy-pantsed and Juicy-butted angst.
Crazy kids.
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38 comments:
Boo! I just wanted to be number one today!
Ah, the angst of the youts. Tortured and surly.
Rapper's Girl #3 stole my outfit.
Oh, esb. You'll always be #1. :-)
Kristy, "tortured youts". I like it!
Shelly, you can still wear it. Just not on the bus. :-)
Ya know what's wrong wit weekends? Can't ride the bus with Pearl. Have a good one, Pearl. Weekend, I mean.
Now, and only now, do I know what I look like in the break room trying to listen to Van Halen Panama or Traffic's Low Spark of the High Heel Boys. Sadly, no cleavage in sight and though there are many big butts, none that I would call juicy.
Your bus stories are always my favorites. Makes me wanna ditch my car.
I'm sitting here on my "juicy" chuckling at your post. Your blog is one of the high points of my day!
If your local paper is anything like our "Charlotte Disturber" it's a hard read anyways.
Juicy butt sounds like a medical condition.
Or Juicy bum, as we refer to it here in Britland.
vanilla, I actually hopped the bus to meet with the illustrator of the children's book I wrote (wheeeee!!!) and rode into some clearly funky areas -- with some really outstanding people sitting next to people I suspect may know a thing or two about meth production. I do love the city. :-) Have a good weekend!
R., you're not the only one. I do a mean Florence Welch (of Florence and the Machines -- check her out!!).
Holly, well, in some areas you just can't. But I do find myself regularly amused, and it's definitely worth the price of admission!
Eva, I'm so glad!
BamaTrav, :-) So many people want to be anyone other than themselves...
Simply, the Charlotte Disturber. I can't tell you how much I like that...
Jules, I had juicy bum once -- no, best to leave that story for another time. :-)
Every once in a while I am the first icon to show up in the list of peoples at the top of your web page, ah, so I just have to repeat loading the page, ah, magic happens at Bob Mill's Furniture! No wait, that's a locaal teleBision commercial.
Dear Pearl,
Growing up is hard to do in our society. And the models to imitate seem to be celebrities. So I find myself feeling sad for those you call posers. They are trying so hard to be unique at the same time they are working so hard to fit in. Being a teenager isn't easy.
Peace.
I have to take the bus..I just have to.
esb, as long as there's magic somewhere. :-)
Dee, I totally agree with you. :-) This does not lessen my delight in watching this guy's performance!
Delores, MC Mutter is waiting for you!
It's been more than forty years since I was last on a public bus, but I'm glad to hear the same sort of people are still on board. Somebody (Jeff Foxworthy, maybe?) said if a woman requires a "wide load" sign across her rear end, she should NOT be wearing britches that say, "Juicy."
Susan, he's right. :-)
When you can't be a legend in your own mind in your own car with the speakers turned way up, then you just have to settle for muttering on the bus.
Bus you poor people I have to drive a tractor through the woods and meadows. Am I a poser?
Life is funny and your posts crack me up.
Back to the woods for me just dropping in. I love the bus when I go to the big city life happens on the bus. Enjoy. B
I'm afraid my grandsons used to dress, walk, talk and pose as rap singers. It was kind of cute though.
I love people watching at the MOA. There are some characters there!
Whoa, if my daughter wore a label that said "Juicy" across her backside, it would be my last day on earth ...or hers.
(ahem) Ta-ta, Cheerio, and all that sort of thing.
"Juicy" was in a car next to me at a stop light, doing her 'thang' to an explicit lyrics song.
Four year old granddaughter asks, "What's a xxxx?" I so wanted to say, "One of those," and point to "Juicy"
Along with Juicy, we have the even more presumptious "Beautiful" and "Gorgeous". Always worn by great huge wallops in cheap sportswear.
If only the links for those predictive tunes worked for us Canucks! On occasion I google youtube and get a version of the same thing, but mostly I decide to remain in suspense about my weekend prospects. Which may be best.
However, when I see Kool and The Gang (or KC and The Sunshine Band, etc, etc), THAT is a good sign! Hope your weekend lives up to the hype :)
I met Mr. Mutter the other day! On the corner of Spring and High. In fact, my dear, I think thanks to you, I have my next post.
Happy St. Patty's day. I will hoist one for you. ;)
Ahhhh to be young again... wait a second, do I get to keep the knowledge (the little of it which I've retained) I've gained while I've aged? ... I didn't think so, thus the young girl with the juicy bottom can keep those sweats, I'll go to the local hippie shop and continue to buy my baggy smocks and loose fitting skirts (not really but isn't that the attire of older social workers?). OMG I'm getting up there! But just for today I'll throw on my most comfy jeans and head out for the day, maybe climb one of the hills just to feel young again.
Cheers.
I do not mutter.
Ah, very good. Of course, I can predict the past. And speaking of 'pants'. To save money on airline tickets, I'm now 'flying by the seat of my pants' :) My flared jean pants, of course....
Have a good one and thanks for commenting on my shy, humble, unassuming blog....
Whoa, there, Pearl. An illustrator for your children's book?! How exciting! I met an illustrator at a class I took at the local literary place. So amazing what they do.
But back to the point....I think that the pants should have "surly" written on them rather than juicy. So much more appropriate from what I can tell.
I knew two kids in NYC who faked a British accent and last I knew a few years back, were still affecting them near retirement age. NYC European-Jewish kids, they and their families lived there their whole lives. What is that?
I dig you, Pearl
Aloha from Waikiki
Comfort Spiral
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I cannot stress enough how much I hate the word Juicy across the seat of the pants. Or any other word.
As for rap, to me that just isn't music.
I almost wish I was on the bus at 6silly am. But not quite.
Jealousy does not become you Pearl...I know you're just itching to get up there and entertain us all...
Seriously if honesty broke out like a disease I wonder what people would sign on their behinds...hemorrhoids, size 16, cellulite?
Mine, of course would just say Ass.
One time I saw a JUICY butt bump into a Victoria's Secret PINK butt, and nine months later, a litter of Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday/Friday/Saturday underpants fell out of that JUICY PINK.
True story.
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