“RAH RAH! CA-CA OOOH LA LA!”
Yes, here's a gooey, crappy parody of one of Lady Gaga’s greatest s(hits).
“I moved too SLOW…I tried to control it, but I couldn’t hold it. I shit my pants! I can’t believe I just shit my pants!”
A drag queen version of Weird Al Yankovic, Sherry Vine has managed to make some money on Google's YouTube thanks to some flashy, campy parodies (and appearances in cabaret nightclubs). ’Tis pity the tunes aren’t available on disc. In the old days, something like “Shit My Pants” would’ve been quite a collectors’ item on brown vinyl.
In fact, the lack of vinyl confused my colleague, the “Lord of the Poop Sale.” Nicknamed for his habit of buying up any shit he can find on 45 rpm, he heard about song and phoned me in a bewildered state of Alzheimer’s. “Ill, it’s Robin here. "Shit My Pants" did not chart? I have no idea how to do research. If I know the label, my dog Turd Muffin could sniff it out. I've trained her to smell the difference in paper between Parlophone, Pye, and every other label! If I know the labels we can go walkies through charity shops and she'll put her nose in every box that has a record with that label! OK, sometimes she tries to stick her nose in some shop owner's twat, too.”
This old guy IS really into shit, and I could tell he desperately wanted this for his collection or piles and piles of music. For him the real fun of is not listening to records but collecting 'em. I told him the best he could do was wait for me to post a download, as we are living in the age of freeeeee.
"Besides," I told him, “Don Henley sang that there are no hearses with luggage racks.” He said, “Who is he? Is he like Matt Monro? I buy up any dodgy vinyl for a few pence if I can brag that nobody else has it. Is his stuff hard to find? Is he the guy who had rare pressings that led to the phrase, “as hard to find as Henley?”
I explained the phrase is “rare as hen’s teeth,” not Henley, but some of these record-buying zombies don't listen. They're on automatic pile-it. They go buy shit and pile it in their homes and that’s how they putter around till their hearts poop out. “Oh well, if it’s not shit on vinyl, I am not interested,” he said. “I am a dung beetle collecting poopular music! It's got to be utterly useless shit!”
He then asked, "Do you have one of those 45 rpm adapters? I’ve got a hole in my head that size, and I like to put an adapter in it. With the smaller hole, the wind whistles from one side of my head to the other, and it sounds very pleasant!” I told him to pick up some of his dog's turds and shove them in his ears. He couldn't hear anything I said after that, and I was glad to wave goodbye to him.
While "Shit My Pants" can't be added to any vinyl addict's pile, it can help clog up anyone's terabyte drive of free crap
Oooh la la. Here's some Ca-Ca!
Sherry Vine Shit My Pants (Bad Romance)