Pick Me Up. . .

Hour fourteen of work on four hours of sleep and I'm feeling it. Tried to leave for lunch earlier and had to make no more than three return trips to the desk. Keys. Wallet. Brain. Uh, uh. . .sunglasses.

Did you see that?? I think Obama is rubbing off on me!

I know you friendly friends get tired of my constant musical selections of Steely Dan and Rush. And not in that particular order. Sometimes I put Rush before Steely Dan just to shake things up. And every now and then a King's X video. Or some Maynard.

My musical tastes actually vary wildly, from classical to French rap, which is genuinely more inventive and palatable than it's American cousin. At a minimum, it's in French, so they could be saying stuff like "slap you ho down" and whatnot, but would we understand?

Heck, you can say anything in French and people immediately begin to fall victim to their amorous instincts. It's simply that seductive. Just look at this example from a menu perhaps:

Goujonettes de Sole, Julienne de Carotte et Nouilles Chinoises

. . .means fish sticks of sole with Chinese noodles and julienned carrots.

Or another........

Cervelas de Brochet de Choucroute au Genievre

. . .means Pike Sausage with Juniper flavored Sauerkraut.

I'd almost eat that if someone put it in front of me and said it in French.

Anyway, I've totally lost point here.

Oh, Nils, what was the name of that French rapper we used to listen to? My memory has faded. Probably all that time we spent on the roof of 438 38th.

While I wait for his response, I'll jump in the wayback machine and travel all the way to 1993. A fine year! Here is Terrance Trent D'Arby (as if his name wasn't odd enough then, it's now Sananda Maitreya) performing She Kissed Me from his album Symphony or Damn.