04.10Humpicide
I can’t get David to stop singing the song “My Humps” by The Black-Eyed Peas. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I can’t get him to stop randomly saying “My humps” to me at every possible moment, including text messages and, occasionally, in my nightmares. I feel like if he knew part of the song, it would be different, but he’ll actually be midsentence when he lets loose a “My Humps” mini-breakdown before continuing.
Nothing against the song, mind you. I’ve never even heard it, really, other than in a commercial for something that pretty much involved someone rocking out to it in a changing room. I don’t know what the commercial was for, but if it was a PSA promoting digging out your own eardrums, I would not be surprised.
I just looked up the lyrics. This is real:
Cause of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps, check it out!
My mind is changed. I don’t want him to know the words.
Anyway, if anyone has a solution for this that doesn’t involve stabbing a friend in the voicebox with a sharp pencil, let me know.
b
My humps, my humps, my humps….
April 10th, 2006 at 4:46 pm
Yeah, just ignore me as I sharpen and resharpen this pencil, pal.
b
April 10th, 2006 at 4:54 pm
“My Humps”
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside your trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps. (Check it out)
I drive these brothers crazy,
I do it on the daily,
They treat me really nicely,
They buy me all these ices.
Dolce & Gabbana,
Fendi and NaDonna
Karan, they be sharin’
All their money got me wearin’ fly
But I ain’t askin,
They say they love my ass ‘n,
Seven Jeans, True Religion’s,
I say no, but they keep givin’
So I keep on takin’
And no I ain’t taken
We can keep on datin’
I keep on demonstrating.
My love, my love, my love, my love
You love my lady lumps,
My hump, my hump, my hump,
My humps they got u,
She’s got me spending.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me and spending time on me.
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me, up on me, on me
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What u gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream
Make u scream, make you scream.
Cos of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps. (Check it out)
I met a girl down at the disco.
She said hey, hey, hey yea let’s go.
I could be your baby, you can be my honey
Let’s spend time not money.
I mix your milk wit my cocoa puff,
Milky, milky cocoa,
Mix your milk with my cocoa puff, milky, milky riiiiiiight.
They say I’m really sexy,
The boys they wanna sex me.
They always standing next to me,
Always dancing next to me,
Tryin’ a feel my hump, hump.
Lookin’ at my lump, lump.
U can look but you can’t touch it,
If you touch it I’ma start some drama,
You don’t want no drama,
No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama
So don’t pull on my hand boy,
You ain’t my man, boy,
I’m just tryn’a dance boy,
And move my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My lovely lady lumps (lumps)
My lovely lady lumps (lumps)
My lovely lady lumps (lumps)
In the back and in the front (lumps)
My lovin’ got u,
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me and spending time on me.
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me, up on me, on me.
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’ma make, make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
What you gon do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off this hump.
What you gon’ do wit all that breast?
All that breast inside that shirt?
I’ma make, make, make, make you work
Make you work, work, make you work.
She’s got me spendin’.
Spendin all your money on me and spendin’ time on me
She’s got me spendin’.
Spendin’ all your money on me, up on me, on me.
April 10th, 2006 at 4:57 pm
Think of them as his lovely man lumps. That should give you something else to nightmare over.
April 11th, 2006 at 10:37 am
Now I have to figure out if I can stab him while fighting the overwhelming nausea you’ve given me.
b
April 11th, 2006 at 12:04 pm
If you stab them, will they leak?
April 11th, 2006 at 12:36 pm
Probably. I’ll save the excretion for you.
b
April 11th, 2006 at 3:05 pm
Came across your blog post when looking for the lyrics for this song. I’m currently in Indonesia on business, caught this song on an Indonesian cable channel, could hardly believe what I was seeing/hearing.
Last night we went out to a bar with some work colleagues. The live band there suddenly started singing this song (imagine a bunch of 18 year-olds who all want to be American Pop Stars bumping and grinding and singing this song in poor english in a Medan bar. Priceless).
They must have sung this song 4 times – and consequently today I CANNOT GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD. Aaaagh. Any tips gratefully appreciated…
May 25th, 2006 at 1:04 pm
[...] David, my nemesis, who has in the past assaulted me with horrible, horrible songs, has been spending a lot of time lately playing Kingdom Hearts and its equally cool sequel Kingdom Hearts II: Still Not Cool. The concept is a bringing together of characters (with their girly hair and obscenely thick swords) from the Final Fantasy universe and weaving them into the same world as characters from Disney flicks. The story follows a young boy (a gender I’m only referencing because everyone calls her a “he”) named Sora voiced by Haley Joel Osment as he fights evil alongside Donald Duck and Goofy. [...]
February 16th, 2007 at 10:14 pm