Ebonics-laden Interjection

19 08 2008

I’ve been a little heavy-handed lately; It be’s time to gets my groove on.

Striking realizations rarely present themselves as such until a few moments after they’re observed.  In fact, “striking” might not be the most apt term for these enlightening instances at all.  Strikes are instantaneous and forceful, unless they be from a weak girl or a timid umpire.  Strikes need to cause a reaction deep within the innards of the struck. Striking realizations should have an onset infinitesimally after their cause.

I submit that we refer to such realizations as “ruptured bladders.”

Ruptured bladders are impossible to ignore from the very moment they begin to afflict their host. (questionable medical terminology, but House doesn’t start up again for weeks — c’est la Robert.) Ruptures carry no doubt as to their nature; ruptures denote both immense amounts of cause and consequence. In fact, just hearing about someone who has a ruptured bladder provokes a response within the hearer akin to the death knell in a medieval village. Moaning, cringing and gnashing of teeth all find their way to the forefront of the cerebellum in a hurry, even when images of blood and death are paralyzing thoughts of anything but.

So, my ruptured bladder today presented with only one symptom:

Enjoyment of the Dean Martin classic, “Not Enough Indians” for more reasons than he could have imagined.

Lyrics posted below for your enjoyment and horror.

Wagon train of lovin’ moving slow

And I can see the peace pipe burning low

You criticize each little thing I do

But listen baby, I’ve got news for you

There’s too many chiefs and not enough Indians around this house

Baby I’m tired of this old game we play called cat and mouse

If you don’t give just a little bit more

We’re both gonna lose this race

‘Cause there’s too many chiefs and not enough Indians around this place

Trouble on our happy hunting ground

‘Cause you keep stepping too far out of bounds

It’s hard to run this reservation right

When you stay on the warpath day and night

Well there’s too many chiefs and not enough Indians around this house

Baby I’m tired of this old game we play called cat and mouse

If you don’t give just a little bit more

We’re both gonna lose this race

‘Cause there’s too many cheifs and not enough Indians around this place

Look at all the things I have to do

To keep this teepee running just for you

Well time’s are tough and wampum’s hard to save

Just remember who’s the squaw and who’s the brave

Well there’s too many cheifs and not enough Indians around this house

Baby I’m tired of playing this old game called cat and mouse

If you don’t give just a little bit more

We’re both gonna lose this race

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