All my friends call my husband “E”, even if they’ve never met him. We’re not in Witness Protection or anything, I promise. My girlfriends in Texas started calling him that years ago and it stuck around.
E and I were running around this weekend like aimless baboons who had just happened to find my “Shit We Still Need For The Cruise” checklist and decided to be helpful. We checked some shit off, for sure. My bank thinks I’m about to make a permanent run for Mexico or they suspect someone else is making a permanent run for Mexico with our money so they apparently don’t give a flying fuck because those bitches haven’t called to say “Hey” or anything.
I was feeling pretty accomplished with all that productivity. You know, for me. And then this little tête–à–tête went down:
E: You got a playlist put together for the trip?
Me: (I actually don’t say shit because I got nothin’)
E: You DON’T have a playlist, do you?
Me (stuttering like Mel Tillis with Tourette Syndrome): I…I…d-d-d-d-damn it!…I…shit!…always h-h-h-have…I always have…m-m-m-my Sum…Summer Play…motherfucker!…Playlist…on my Spot…Taint!…Spotify…acc…account…p-p-p-p-penis!
Okay, I didn’t actually say it like that. I think I missed a really ugly slang word in there somewhere and probably have forever offended some clan in Ireland. Happy St. Patrick’s Day, btw. Proud member of the Murphy clan here. I now return you to this cluster of a blog post.
E (very snarkily): So you DON’T have a playlist? Aren’t you always the one with a playlist for everything? And now you don’t have one?
At this point, I have beaten the shit out of Mel Tillis in my head and am now thinking of doing the same to E.
Musically, compared to E, I am Jack Nicholson’s character Colonel Jessup in the movie “A Few Good Men”. I won’t speculate on what rank E is in this fictional Music Army but let’s just say he’s probably holding a vegetable peeler while listening to Nickelback.
I’m probably sleeping on the couch tonight for that little joke.
I think I know my music pretty well. I stay on top of the trends even though I usually don’t like the vast majority of them. That’s why they’re called “trends”. I love to ferret out acts I’ve never heard of. Every Tuesday night, I check the New Releases on Spotify. I’m constantly adding to and editing my Spotify Playlists.
E can’t question me on my Music Readiness. In the words of the great Colonel Jessup (no, I’m not going with the blow job quote although that could probably work here also): “I run my unit how I run my unit. You want to investigate me, roll the dice and take your chances. I eat breakfast 300 yards from 4000 Cubans who are trained to kill me, so don’t think for one second that you can come down here, flash a badge, and make me nervous.”
Shit! I’m so sleeping on the couch tonight.
This is where I need your help, dear readers. I know some of you are real music freaky freaks. I’m busier than a one armed monkey with three dicks this week. Your freaky musical knowledge can greatly assist me. Help me make an “I’m So Drunk I Pissed On My Lounge Chair And Passed Out In The Salsa In Multiple Caribbean Locations” Playlist. I’ve already added the second song that my brain spewed out when I fed it the word “vacation”. “Whole Wide World” by The Proclaimers. I tried to add “Margaritville” by Jimmy Buffet but apparently he doesn’t like to share his music with others on Spotify. Not cool, Jimmy.
If, for some reason, you can’t add to the Playlist because I’m a dimwit and can’t link correctly or you don’t have a Spotify account (although you totally should, it’s free and awesome), just tell me your favorite vacation songs in the comments below and I’ll update the playlist for you. Yes, I realize I’m basically making you my Musical Minions. Thank you. I will sleep well tonight on the couch knowing you care. Mel Tillis will also.