The Banned Wagon

It can be difficult living in a place where your personal life is governed by, well, just governed. And by personal life, I mean, things that you do in your private sphere that won’t harm other people, and by that, I mean, it follows that it wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, by any means, be a crime.

Now, besides wondering if that was the most tortured two sentence paragraph you’ve ever read, aren’t you also asking, ‘now what made him think of something like that?’?

And I’ll tell you it’s because I was talking to my American business partners the other day, and they told me they read in the news that the state of Missouri (in the U.S., not Sungei Missouri in Kelantan or something), had just banned sex toys. You cannot buy a dildo there.

But as my American partners told me, you can buy a gun there. You know? Things that shoot bullets that kill people, but that you can buy to protect yourselves with?

I couldn’t find any article regarding the Missouri Sex Toy Ban, but found this instead:

Tennessee Republican Eric H. Swafford has a new bill to ban all dildos and to make sex toy possession a crime:

Please, e-mail him to support this much needed law, before we all go blind:

Then, lets get on the phone to Sen. Crowell and Rep. Sater and get them on board with this. Tell them it is about “moral values” and putting the smack down on Satan.

Man, I’ll tell ya, I’m sure glad we live in this fair and free city, where we can buy all manner of sex toys without fear of prosecution.

Surf stop: I’ve started a new category called ‘The Banned Wagon‘, talking about all things prohibited.

Sing me a song, yellow piano man

There are some songs whose lyrics I often mess up and my friends don’t tell me I’ve messed them up, just so they get a good laugh every time I sing it.

But of course, eventually I find out Billy Joel didn’t ask the ‘Yellow Piano Man‘ to sing him a song; and The Black Crowes didn’t sing ‘Hey baby let me light your chemicals cos I’m sure to hananah mess around’, in the song ‘Hard to handle’, but actually ‘Hey little thing let me light your candle ‘Cause mama I’m sure hard to handle, now, gets around’.

It didn’t matter if the title was ‘Hard to Handle’, and not ‘Hananah’, whatever ‘hannanah’ was (some sort of chemical?). I’d still sing the wrong slurrics.

Then there are people who misinterpret lyrics. Now, that’s pretty common, you might think, and not that funny. But I know this guy who loves the theme song from ‘Fame‘. He’d sing it all the time. Then one day, he sings it, and then mutters, ‘What kind of name is ‘Fame’?’

He’d thought the song was about a person named ‘Fame’, and quite heatedly argued that it was because the chorus went ‘Remember my name: Fame! I wanna live forever!’, and why would she ask people to remember her name – fame, because I would also say that what, you know? remember my name – John!’ if I wanted people to remember my name is John…’

I’m not entirely sure if he’s been convinced of the truth yet, but in any case, he’s a great singer.

Then this morning, they played a Cliff Richard song on the radio which I like very much. Only thing is, for years, I never knew the real title of the song, and always thought it was a nice love song dedicated to some woman named ‘Shandeep’.

‘Cos y’know, Cliff sings, all torch-song like, so powerfully: ‘Ooohh Shandeeeeeep, I’m so afraid to show my feelings, I have sailed a million ceilings…’

“Miss Kaur always felt a special, personal affinity for Sir Cliff’s works and would always feel as if he were singing to her”

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