bigpimpinmba's Diaryland Diary
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American music in foreign lands leads to embarrassment at home
It�s funny what people assume about other cultures.
As I was driven around by either cab drivers or my one customers� personal drivers in Malaysia, each and every one of them asked if I would like them to put on music and to each one of them, I replied, �Fo Shizzle My Nizzle.�
To which they replied, ����?�
To which I replied back, �Whatever you would like, I�m fine with listening to whatever you would like to hear.�
They automatically assume that, since I�m American, I would enjoy listening to bad American music. Usually, they will try to find any type of Rap that they can find on the radio and play that for my entertainment. Now, I really do like quite a bit of rap music, but I would actually prefer to hear what they would listen to if I wasn�t in the car. I�m sure some of them are listening to American music when I�m not in the car, but I kind of have a hard time believing that the 60 year old driver who doesn�t speak much English would really be listening to Eminem if I weren�t in the car.
As much as it would kick ass, my cab drivers are never quite as straight pimpin as this guy.
It�s absolutely true that I absolutely enjoy just about any type of awful music, but it�s always interesting to see what they assume that this conservatively dressed balding doofus would enjoy listening to.
Kind of like how I�m paranoid that my driver is actually a covert Islamic Jihadist who will either kidnap me or scream at me that I�m an infidel.
Funny.
��
I heard a song in the cab from my hotel to the airport that I hadn�t heard in quite some time and forgot how much I loved it.
What song?
�Ain�t nothing gonna breaka my stride.�
What a great tune to hear as you�re trying to get to the airport on time.
Go ahead.
Sing it.
Ain�t nothing gonna breaka my stride
Ain�t nothing gonna slow me down
Oh no
I�ve got to keep on moving�.
Hah.
Now it�s stuck in your head too�
�
Speaking of bad American music, how wrong is it that I secretly enjoy Ashlee Simpson�s �La La� song? At first, I patently refused to even listen to anything by the younger Simpson. Then, I was at a party where the song was playing and found myself saying, �Allright. It taint all that bad.�
Next thing I know, I�m walking down the street in a white leisure suit, swinging two paint cans, singing it (Or was that my dream where I was trapped in a great, John Travolta, 70�s flick?)
Anyway, I guess I shouldn�t be surprised, being a big fan of the Spice Girls and owning the New Kids on the Block�s Greatest Hits.
Did I just actually confess that?
Yeah. I did.
It actually felt pretty good.
It�s not like this is a public diary or anything.
I can�t wait to see the feyg comments that I�m bound to have after this entry.
I like so much bad music that there is a survey going around about bad music and you�re supposed to underline the songs that you like or own or something like that.
If I were to actually take the survey, it would probably be something like one giant underline of the entire list.
�.
Speaking of lame confessions, we were at dinner this past Saturday at my friends house and I managed to let slip that I wear what I fondly call �my retainer� to bed.
This may be difficult for all of you readers to believe, but beyond my movie-star good looks and lips lies a set teeth that border on freakishly small. (especially when you compare them to the gargantuan size of my mouth)
Well, my �retainer� is really called a Mouth Guard, which is used as a buffer between my upper and lower teeth while I sleep. I think it�s funnier to call it a retainer.
Here�s our girl, we�ll call her Jenny, happily posing with her Night Guard, protecting those beautiful pearly whites.
Part of the reason for my small-toothedness is apparently because I am apparently a tooth grinding fiend at night as my Hatfield uppers and McCoy lowers battle it out on a nightly basis. If not for my Mouth Guard, I�ll be the belle of the ball with the �purtiest mouth� if I ever end up in prison. I would be giving one mean gummer to Bubba and all the guards.
When we go to bed at night, my wife never fails to giggle when she hears the �teeth on hard-plastic sound� coming from my side of the bed as I insert my retainer into my mouth.
Being the wise-ass that I love her for, she is often very helpful in striking up a conversation after my retainer is in because she knows that I have a hard time talking with a mouth full of plastic.
With my retainer in, I sound like an epileptic trying to tell someone that they are in the process of swallowing their tongue.
Gohney, Gou Gow GI Gave Grougle Galging Gigth Gis Ging Gin.
(More giggling from the wife)
GooGide Gaygeee. GI Gove Goo.
(Go ahead and translate that in the comments - Hint - the G�s are all soft)
As you would imagine, when my friends found out about my retainer, they definitely had a field day at my expense. (And I wouldn�t hang out with them if they didn�t �gust gy galls� extensively.
I think I�m done embarrassing myself for now.
Or maybe not�
Here you can see a squinty-eyed Pimp smiling before joyously putting my Night Guard in my mouth. Notice the lovely flowing mane of hair. Lesson here� Photoshop is not always your friend.
Have a Happy Easter!
12:07 p.m. - 2005-03-24
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