I Don't Like the Drugs; the Drugs, They Like Me

Take a body highly reactive to medication and add a slight head injury with a regular ibuprofen regimen and what do you get? Bizarre dreams, of course.

I dreamt I was going to the optometrist in town. I actually need to go to the eye doctor, so this is not really weird. The building I went to in my dream is actually a dentist's office. I actually need to go to the dentist, so this isn't too weird either, aside from the fact that I thought it was an optometrist.

When I went into the office, my cousin was working there as an assistant, except he had evil plans, I tell you. Evil. As a result, before he could approach my eyes with a vicious looking laser saw, I ran out of the building, and discovered I was in Los Angeles.

After trying to locate my friend Randy, and happily remembering that I'm led to believe SoCal is populated almost entirely by beautiful women, I decided I needed a job. Oh yeah, I knew I was in LA because I kept singing "I Love LA" by Randy Newman. I might actually have BEEN Randy Newman, too, because I sounded exactly like him, whereas in reality, I sound nothing like Randy Newman.

Anyway, I hopped into a subway car and started driving along the track until I reached a hospital. The supervisor there told me he needed someone to clean up a massive medicine spill. It seems that the Haldol and Geodon had spilled and were mixing together to form a hazardous material. Why did they have liquid concentrations of Haldol and Geodon? I don't know, but it was my job to clean them up. The only problem was that I'm hyper-affected by drugs, so the hazmat solution would have a worse effect on me than the people he already had. He wouldn't listen, though, so I had to get away by pointing and saying "Look at that!" and then sprinting back to my subway car before he caught me and threw me into the spill room. Fortunately, I made it just in time, and took off in my subway car very fast.

Regrettably, my subway car broke down at the foot of a gigantic, 30 story-tall hill. Since I didn't want to climb the hill, I got out of my subway car and went into the nearest building, which opened up into a boxing arena and I was coming down the aisle with a blue cape on me. I looked into the ring and my opponent was a patient from my unit, but not the one who hit me. However, after the bell rang, I spent the entirety of the match arguing with his manager and entourage about how much I owed them for dinner while the patient ran back and forth.

And then I woke up, and was very confused. And running late for work because my alarm didn't go off.

I'm Just a H8er Boi

Talking about my problems with people usually does not make me feel better about them. I generally ruminate enough to come up with a wide variety of thoughts on them rather than single-mindedly obsessing about one particular aspect.

Making fun of people I've never met, however, generally does the trick, so that's what I'm going to do right now.

That said, if you are a fan of Avril Lavigne, or on the off chance that you ARE Avril Lavigne, I suggest reading something else.

On my way to work today I heard Avril Lavigne's "Sk8er Boi" on the radio. I never change the radio station when I hear this song, even though I reflexively turn the station anytime any other Avril Lavigne song comes on. I guess this one bothers me less because it's replaces her ordinarily whiny lyrics with utterly inane ones. I think I listen to it to see if I find it dumber than I did last time I heard it. I always do.

He was a boy, she was a girl
Can i make it any more obvious?

Two things here: 1. Unless you're suggesting that every girl and every boy desire to sleep with each other, yes. 2. This is the first time Avril states that she doesn't need to say anything else, but then continues singing anyway.

He was a punk, she did ballet
What more can i say?

Well, for starters, you might try working on your qualifications for deciding what makes people a 'punk', there, Avril. Just sayin. And again, I'm thinking you're going to say more anyway.

He wanted her, She'd never tell
Secretly she wanted him as well
But all of her friends stuck up their nose
They had a problem with his baggy clothes

Damned baggy clothes-ists. Also, I'm not positive, but I think this was the exact plot of "From Justin to Kelly".

He was a sk8er boi. She said 'see you later boy.'

This clever line never gets old. Never.

He wasn't good enough for her
She had a pretty face, but her head was up in space
She needed to come back down to earth...

Oh man, a cliffhanger. Will she finally shred her baggy pants prejudice and love him for the sk8er boi he truly is?

5 years from now, she sits at home
Feeding the baby she's all alone

In my experience, the beautiful, preppy kids whose parents can afford ballet lessons for their children always end up being poor white trash. Well, at least a solid 9/10 times.

She turns on tv. Guess who she sees
Sk8er Boi rockin up MTV

Wait, what? If he's Sk8er Boi, which I'm half convinced is his given name by now, shouldn't he be on the X-Games on ESPN 8, the Ocho? How did Sk8er Boi grow up to become the Guitar Man? Is Mr. Tambourine his percussionist?

She calls up her friends. They already know,
And they've all get tickets to see his show

Wait, what? I thought she was the one who liked him and her friends all hated him; why were they the ones following Sk8er Boi's career? The plot twists in this song are totally blowing my mind.

She tags along; stands in the crowd
Looks up at the man that she turned down

Tags along? She fell hard. Not even her friends want her around. I'm not making fun of the second part because "Looks up at the man that she turned down" is actually a halfway decent song lyric. Blind squirrel, meet acorn.

He was a sk8er boi. She said 'see you later boy.'

Blind squirrel, meet rock gravel.

He wasn't good enough for her.
Now he's a super star, slamming on his guitar.
Does your pretty face see what he's worth?

We see with our eyes, not our faces. How about "Do your pretty eyes see what he's worth?" instead? I realize this critique is somewhat like a doctor telling a terminally ill cancer patient that his poor posture might lead to back problems in his old age, but I felt I should point out that even the least offensive stanza has an easily observed problem.

Sorry girl but you missed out
Well tough luck that boy's mine now

These lines are much funnier if you sing them in a deep Evil Movie Villain voice. "The Sk8r Boi shall be all MINE! Muahahahahaha"

We are more than just good friends
This is how the story ends

So the song's over then, right? Right?

Too bad that you couldn't see,
See the man that boy could be
There is more that meets the eye
I see the soul that is inside

Right, forgot. Gotta have a moral at the end: "Underneath every baggy exterior lies a sensitive soul." Where was Aesop on that one? So, song's over now, right? Right?

He's just a boy, and Im just a girl
Can I make it any more obvious?
We are in love. Haven't you heard
How we rock each others world?

Yes. Yes I have heard. In the previous verse. And in the bridge. And in the chorus. I had heard quite frequently. And I have the feeling I'm going to hear it again soon.

I'm with the Sk8er Boi. I said 'see you later boy.'

Wait, what? I thought you were with him. Why are you saying 'see you later boy'? Are you dumping the poor Sk8er Boi because he's gone too commercial when it used to be about the sk8ing? Or did you just fail to come up with an equally lame lyric that actually makes sense in the context of the song, like maybe "I'm with the Sk8er Boi, 'cause he's not a H8er Boi!"?

I'll be back stage after the show
I'll be at the studio singing the song we wrote
About a girl he used to know...

And now you're stalking him? Or are you like Yoko Ono and trying to break up the band? Or maybe she's going all Fight Club on us and she actually is both the pretty ballet dancer from high school and the singer, and the song is a dark reflection of her tortured soul. I don't know. Truly, there are few songs that raise as many disturbing questions as Sk8er Boi, first and foremost being "Why didn't I just change the channel?" closely followed by "Why does 'Sk8er' have an 'e' in it? That's totally an unnecessary keystroke."

Ok, I feel better already.