Some lyrics for you before I get into the meat of the post, if you will. Just so you know, I am a huge Meat Loaf fan and when I lived in Madison, I would play my Bat Out of Hell cassette over and over again. Especially this song. There was something so primal about the spoken part and then so happy about the part that was sung. I wish I knew what I did with that cassette.

There’s a scene in a Stephen King novel, Cycle of the Werewolf, which reminds me of the spoken part. The old maid who opens her window to the werewolf, knowing perfectly well that this will lead to her death but she wants to be loved so much that she doesn’t care. And then they change it up with the singing and it just becomes so much fun. Anyway, I like it. If you’ve never heard the song, I recommend it.

You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth – Meat Loaf


Boy: On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
Girl: Will he offer me his mouth?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Will he offer me his teeth?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Will he offer me his jaws?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Will he offer me his hunger?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Again, will he offer me his hunger?
Boy: Yes!
Girl: And does he love me?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Yes.
Boy: On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
Girl: Yes.
Boy: I bet you say that to all the boys!

It was a hot summer night and the beach was burning.
There was fog crawling over the sand.
When I listen to your heart
I hear the whole world turning.
I see the shooting stars falling through your trembling hands.

Chorus 1:
You were licking your lips and your lipstick shining.
I was dying just to ask for a taste.
We were lying together in a silver lining by the light of the moon.
You know there’s not another moment
Not another moment
Not another moment to waste.

You hold me so close that my knees grow weak.
But my soul is flying high above the ground.
I’m trying to speak but no matter what I do
I just can’t seem to make any sound.

Chorus 2:
And then you took the words right out of my mouth.
Oh it must have been while you were kissing me.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
And I swear it’s true, I was just about to say I love you.
And then you took the words right out of my mouth.
Oh it must have been while you were kissing me.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
And I swear it’s true, I was just about to say I love you.

Now my body is shaking like a wave on the water
And I guess that I’m beginning to grin.
Oh we’re finally alone and we can do what we want to.
The night is young and ain’t no-one gonna know where you
No-one gonna know where you
No-one’s gonna know where you’ve been.

Repeat Chorus 1
Repeat Chorus 2 twice

Isn’t that great? I love that song. Anyway, the whole point to using that song is that I have a story to tell you, or actually two stories, that sort of ties in with words. And how those words are taken out of mouths. When you hang out with people for awhile, you start picking up their mannerisms, gestures they make, things they say.

In Which The World Becomes Charmingly Askew – Just Like Me

Beth, for example, whenever she is hanging up the phone or leaving, will always tell me to “Be good.” It’s probably a good thing she tells me this – I’m sure that it’s been all that kept me from a life of crime. Because let’s face it, I could so be an evil genius. An awesome evil genius. I would rock. And everyone would love me so much that they wouldn’t even care that I was controlling their world. I imagine that my fake world would be like the Matrix. Except fun and without all of that using people as batteries sort of thing. But you could fly if you wanted to. I would let you. In exchange for the usual – mass love and devotion, riches beyond compare, hot men fawning at my feet, begging to join my harem. Maybe an on call hair stylist. A good looking chauffeur for my fleet of El Caminos. Whatever. I’m not fussy.

But because of Beth, I have quelled my desires to mess with Nature and seriously start enforcing this Queen of the Universe thing. I use my powers for good. Which is kind of odd, with my being the Queen of the Universe, that I would allow her caution to “be good” to compel me to be good. That would almost indicate that her powers outweigh my powers. Hmm.

Well, anyway, we were talking one night and as we were saying goodbye, suddenly I found the words “Be good” come out of my mouth. There was this pause while Beth and I just sat there, frozen. Do you understand the ramifications of this? This may just have ripped the very fabric of society. If I am telling Beth to “Be good,” what hope is there for us all?

But Beth came to the rescue, as she usually does, when she said “Okay. You too.”

Whew. Saved from the burden of having to go rob a bank or take over the country (oh, let’s face it, I would make an awesome president. OF FRANCE!!!!). That Beth is sure a quick thinker. It’s a good thing she’s around, Internet. You just never know what could happen if I went all crazy with power. But you know, I have a great crazy with power laugh. Mwahahahaha!

In Which I Strike the Hearts of My Roommates With Mass Chaos & Fear.

Johnny, I hope you like this. I have been waiting until you got back from Canada to share this story. Just because I was afraid you would miss it. Anyway, apparently you’ve become one of the people I hang out with. Because I’ve picked up some of your phrases. This is not necessarily a good thing. Observe, if you will (where have I picked up this “If you will” phrase? This is the 4th time I’ve used it today. Twice with customers. Twice in this post).

I have mentioned before that Keem has the most comfortable bed in the apartment. And the computer is in her room. So Keem, Jeff and I have a tendency to gravitate to her bedroom when one of us is on the computer. On this night in question, Jeff was on the computer and I had stolen Keem’s bed and much of the pillows, allowing her to lounge at the foot of the bed. I am nothing if not generous.

Somehow I managed to talk Keem into massing my feet. Now, I know I have been celibate for a really long time I have always believed that a good foot massage is much better than sex (Which really doesn’t say much for my past partners prowess when you think about it).

Now there was a time where this theory was proved wrong. I am now indicating a flash back. Let’s do this in a literary manner. Dana cast her memory back to a time where feet played another important part in her life. Okay, let’s not. Anyway, I was over at Beth and Adam’s place one night and Beth was complaining that her feet hurt. Adam offered to give her a foot massage. How generous is that?

Not very. He takes her foot and begins running his knuckle down the sole. Beth and I exchange a puzzled look. He explains that apparently there are crystals in feet (salt crystals? Potassium crystals?) and he is popping them.

Yeah. Adam is a crystal popper. Quite possibly the crystal that he is popping is crystal meth. Because, seriously folks, this was the most fucked up massage that I had ever seen. He did not once take her foot and actually massage it. Just kept doing the crystal popping maneuver for what seemed like hours but actually only lasted about 15 minutes.
When he finished, he said to her in all seriousness that when she stood up, she might feel a bit light headed. Beth stood up and walked around the room without side effects.

A: How does it feel?
B: Pretty much the same as it did before you started.

One thing you should know about Beth is she is not a touchy-feely type. She prefers it if people do not make grandiose gestures of affection or touch her casually. So for her to allow someone to give her a foot massage, that was a big step (pun intended). And she relaxes enough to allow this and the person freaks her right the heck out.

Anyway, back to my story. Keem agreed to massage my feet and I agreed to keep the sound effects to a minimum. Apparently it is a little disconcerting to have someone moan with pleasure when you touch their feet. I don’t understand why but hey, what do I know? Personally I would think it would be an indication that you were doing a good job.

She reached a particularly sore spot. Without meaning to say this, the words “Fuck me” fly out of my mouth. Keem drops my foot.

“Uh, no,” she says. “Get off my bed.”

I then have to explain that Johnny (AKA The Lioness) comments on my blog and Beth’s blog and uses such exciting expressions as “fuck me” and “you tosser” and “what a wanker.” So when I said “fuck me,” it was more of an exclamation of pleasure than an invitation. She is partially mollified by my explanation. Jeff remained in the chair, laughing at us.

Keem gingerly picks up my foot and continues. She applies more pressure.

“Fuck me blind!” I say.

“Okay. That’s it. You’re done.” I am banned from the room.

Dang that Johnny! A perfectly good foot massage ruined because I have a habit of picking up expressions. I sometimes also pick up accents. In the 1980’s, my church did a play called Cotton Patch Gospel – a play about what it would be like if Jesus was born in Georgia. Fun play. Except I kept the accent. For 3 months after the play was over, I was still saying things like “y’all” and “I’m fixin’ to go home” and stuff like that.

I am looking forward to meeting Johnny IRL in April. But you know damn well I’m going to come home with an accent. Oh, well. It’ll be worth it.

Previous Comments:

At 11:17 PM, The Lioness said…
Oh God, I don’t usually cry laughing when reading blogs but this one has me still wiping my eyes, :DDDDDDDD AND it was a very funny post but the last bit did me in, how bloody brilliant, I AM NOT SORRY AT ALL bcs you now outed me bfr the whole blogosphere though, bugger you!Also, you neglected to explain to the assembled audience of subjects that it’s an expletive for me as well, not a request! YES. AND that it embarrasses me to no end occasionally on MSN. AND that I do keep my swearing to a bare minimum around here, AND that I am more foul-mouthed in English than in Portuguese and that’s YOUR language’s fault, ours isn’t so handy.Thanks for waiting w the story, I would have still found it, I’ve caught up, but now it’s just good timing, in between plagues.But fuck me, how I wish I could HAVE SEEN KEEM’S FACE!!![And woman, check your gmail already, I WROTE THE CODE FOR YOUR DROP-DOWN MENU, I’m making myself hoarse trying to draw your attention to it!]
At 12:38 AM, brooksba said…
DM,Again, and as always, loved this post. You are too classic for words. I know that you haven’t gotten a chance to check your gmail because you can’t do it from work and the new computer isn’t at your place yet, but you have to get that code soon! Or else Johnny’s going to lose her voice. I still don’t get the whole foot massage thing. But then, you explained why I don’t. Crack smoker (not you). Be good.Beth
At 6:34 PM, Matt said…
Dana,I loved this, I thought it was hysterical. I read the part about your foot massage to Scott, he laughed so hard while lighting a cigarette he nearly fell over, and then he said that you must be going through something. I kept laughing after I read this, and am still laughing about as I type these comments. We have all had our moments of saying wrong things at the right time, for instance you and everyone in Perkins knows that the only part of my body that my children are not allowed to draw on is my head. Hope to talk to you soon, OH BY THE WAY, I happened to see on the Catwoman DVD they do a segment all about The Many FAces of Catwoman, and they interview none other than, brace yourself, Adam West. Dare I say, I think that in a bedroom that man is a freaky-deke. Just thought you would enjoy that.Matt