the one where I prattle a little about the eighties. or something. and also I mention my big ole ego.

My friends know me very well. Like, well enough to know if they sent me a link to an ex-boyfriend’s blog I wouldn’t click it if I knew what I was doing. Any e-mail would have to say something along the lines of, “Oooooh, girl. Somebody wrote about you!” and then throw in a permalink for a specific entry. Then I click on it and thumb around the contents a little bit and by the time I’ve added two and two to figure out where I’m at, I’ve already been tricked and what are you gonna do?

So do any of you remember a bold little ditty from the early eighties known as ‘88 Lines About 44 Women’ by The Nails? Has a sort of cadenced, spoken delivery, that one…somewhat like The Jim Carroll Band’s ‘People Who Died’, or ‘Pepper’ by Butthole Surfers.

Well, ex-boyfriend whose site I otherwise would not have visited posted the lyrics to that one, only he replaced many of the names with names of his actual exes. So instead of ‘Zilla’, the line that says ‘Zilla was an archetype / The voodoo queen, the queen of wrath’ says ‘Elizabeth’ and I found myself foolgrinning at the notion that I got the line that defines me as ‘an archetype’. In yon cranium, I can even make the descriptors ‘voodoo queen’ (“That means mysterious and exotic and just an eensy bit scurrrrry.”) and ‘queen of wrath’ (“That means I am a Woman To Be Reckoned With.”) into something akin to a compliment or fond remembrance. THAT IS HOW BIG MY HEAD IS ON SOME DAYS.

And about all the wrong stuff, obviously. I mean, seriously: In the areas of my life where I might actually be justified being a little chest-beaty, I am forever of the notion that I am lacking. In things that don’t actually matter, I am a goofily proud bastard. Welcome to the madness.

Hey, in pursuit of an actual video for this song, I found something for all you Dexter fans out there:

The internet is so fucking awesome. There are upsides to living in Babylon, for sure.