I hopped off the communist band wagon
I no longer support Stalin
Welcome to the land of persona nongrata
Am I gonna fit in?
Hangin' with the peasants
Here I am for the first time
Look to the left and I see the KGB crimes
This is all so crazy
Everybody seems so paranoid
My tummy's turning and I'm feelin' kind of democratic
Too much pressure and I'm nervous
That's when the secret police spotted me
'Cause my neighbor turned me in
'Cause my neighbor turned me in
'Cause my neighbor turned me in
So I put my hands up
I'm in line to be shot
Hope for life dies away
Noddin' my head like “I'm gonna die”
Movin' my hips like “maybe if I gyrate inappropriately the executioner will let me live”
And I got my hands up
They're shootin' down the line
I know I'm gonna be next
yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
Get to the open fields where bodies lie
Everybody's lookin' at me now
Like “Who's that Rousky supportin' democracy,
They gotta be from outta town”
So hard with my fellow conspirators not around me
It's definitely not a Fascist party
'Cause all I see are Winchesters
I guess I never got the memo
My tummy's turning and I'm feelin' kind of democratic
Too much pressure and I'm nervous
That's when the secret police spotted me
'Cause my neighbor turned me in
'Cause my neighbor turned me in
'Cause my neighbor turned me in
So I put my hands up
I'm in line to be shot
Hope for life dies away
Noddin' my head like “I'm gonna die”
Movin' my hips like “maybe if I gyrate inappropriately the executioner will let me live”
And I got my hands up
They're shootin' down the line
I know I'm gonna be next
Yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
Yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
Feel like hoppin' on a flight (on a flight)
Goin' to England tonight (England tonight)
Commies stop me every time (every time)
I don't know why 'cause Churchill seems alright!
So I put my hands up
I'm in line to be shot
Hope for life dies away
Noddin' my head like “I'm gonna die”
Movin' my hips like “maybe if I gyrate inappropriately the executioner will let me live”
And I got my hands up
They're shootin' down the line
I know I'm gonna be next
Yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
Yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
So I put my hands up
I'm in line to be shot
Hope for life dies away
Noddin' my head like “I'm gonna die”
Movin' my hips like “maybe if I gyrate inappropriately the executioner will let me live”
And I got my hands up
They're shootin' down the line
I know I'm gonna be next
yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
yeah-ah-ah-aaahaha it's a party in the USSR
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Southern Living
“Flashlight tag, for those of you who don't know...” Pastor Dan began, looking straight at Mackenzie and me. Great, as if people aren't staring enough as it is, you have to go and single us out. Thanks, Pastor Dan. Thanks a bunch. “begins when we hide this flashlight in the church. Me, Janine, Lucy, Renee and Mark are going to hide, and you have to run in and try to steal the flashlight. If any of us touch you, you are out and have to go to 'jail'. Whoever finds the flashlight first wins. Any questions?”
Yeah, do you honestly think no one noticed your plan to hide in a dark church with three underage girls and a guy too preoccupied with “the joy of the hunt” to notice any illicit activities in the bathroom? Nice try, Pedophile Pete, but no cigar.
“No? Okay, let's begin.”
Mackenzie and I looked at each other, knowing there was no way we were actually going to participate in this nonsense. We walked to the back of the church and ended up sitting down on some sort of crate just outside the doors, close enough to the action to follow what was going on, but still far enough away so that no one would actually think we were participating in the juvenile game. Not having anything better to do, we began to people watch.
There was this cute boy we had noticed earlier, Aric, who was around the back of the church near us with a group of other boys. They were talking loudly, clearly trying to get our attention. They had it, that is, until...
“Have y'all seen Napoleon Dynamite?” Aric asked. “That's so funny! That's like my favorite movie!”
I winced. You have got to be kidding me. We finally find an attractive guy in this God-forsaken town and he likes Napoleon Dynamite. Who likes Napoleon Dynamite? The crazies who sit in the back at school and make fart noises because they think it's clever. The same kids who can't play on the bowling team because their grades are too bad. The ones who think Babe can actually talk. That's a bright one there, watch out for Aric, he's a catch. I glanced at Mackenzie and could tell she was thinking the exact thing I was. Needless to say, Aric fell off the radar after that.
A short while later, a brave but incredibly stupid boy came over and sat by us.
“What were y'alls names again?” He asked slowly.
“Baige and Mackenzie,” Mack said.
He paused. “Oh, I thought y'alls names was Mercedes. That way y'all could be a beige Mercedes, get it? Like the car...”
“Yeah. We get it.” Clearly we've got another bright one here. He and Aric probably came here straight from a Mensa meeting.
“So what is there to do for fun around here?” Mack asked.
“Oh, plenty!” he said (his name was Frankie, by the way.) “Y'all drink?”
She and I looked at each other. This kid has so much going for him. “No.” I said.
“Oh. Y'all smoke?”
“No.”
“Oh,” he said, perplexed. We could tell he was running out of modes of entertainment. “Y'all swear?”
“Like a sailor,” I said, throwing him for a loop.
He paused again. “Oh. Does that mean y'all swear a lot?”
“Yes...” I said. “Sailors are notorious for their profanity...” This just shut him up. He had absolutely no clue how to respond. He stared at us, his head tilting slightly to the left, and I swear I could see drool starting to come out of his mouth. We sat in silence like that for a long time.
“Well, is there anything to do here besides playing flashlight tag?” Mack asked, breaking the silence.
Frankie recovered from his stupor then, but we could tell he had to think long and hard, racking what little brains he had to come up with another answer.
“Well....y'all could...y'all...could...y'all could come to my baseball game!”
Party. I cannot think of one single thing I would rather do than drive across three towns to watch you play in your division x baseball game. Do you even have enough people in this town to make up a team? Does your scoreboard consist of Grandma Aggie marking each run with a tally on the one room school house's chalkboard?
“Yeah!” He said excitedly. “Come to my baseball game!” We could tell he was really proud of himself for coming up with such a riveting possibility.
“Oh, um, we would, but we're actually leaving to go tour colleges tomorrow, sorry,” Mack said. She's always been the diplomatic one.
Luckily, a girl walked over to Frankie at that point and he focused his attention on her, I mean, she was his sister, how could we compete? Mackenzie and I were left to contemplate alone on the wonders of southern living. Thank you God, I prayed, for letting me be born north of the Mason-Dixon Line.
Yeah, do you honestly think no one noticed your plan to hide in a dark church with three underage girls and a guy too preoccupied with “the joy of the hunt” to notice any illicit activities in the bathroom? Nice try, Pedophile Pete, but no cigar.
“No? Okay, let's begin.”
Mackenzie and I looked at each other, knowing there was no way we were actually going to participate in this nonsense. We walked to the back of the church and ended up sitting down on some sort of crate just outside the doors, close enough to the action to follow what was going on, but still far enough away so that no one would actually think we were participating in the juvenile game. Not having anything better to do, we began to people watch.
There was this cute boy we had noticed earlier, Aric, who was around the back of the church near us with a group of other boys. They were talking loudly, clearly trying to get our attention. They had it, that is, until...
“Have y'all seen Napoleon Dynamite?” Aric asked. “That's so funny! That's like my favorite movie!”
I winced. You have got to be kidding me. We finally find an attractive guy in this God-forsaken town and he likes Napoleon Dynamite. Who likes Napoleon Dynamite? The crazies who sit in the back at school and make fart noises because they think it's clever. The same kids who can't play on the bowling team because their grades are too bad. The ones who think Babe can actually talk. That's a bright one there, watch out for Aric, he's a catch. I glanced at Mackenzie and could tell she was thinking the exact thing I was. Needless to say, Aric fell off the radar after that.
A short while later, a brave but incredibly stupid boy came over and sat by us.
“What were y'alls names again?” He asked slowly.
“Baige and Mackenzie,” Mack said.
He paused. “Oh, I thought y'alls names was Mercedes. That way y'all could be a beige Mercedes, get it? Like the car...”
“Yeah. We get it.” Clearly we've got another bright one here. He and Aric probably came here straight from a Mensa meeting.
“So what is there to do for fun around here?” Mack asked.
“Oh, plenty!” he said (his name was Frankie, by the way.) “Y'all drink?”
She and I looked at each other. This kid has so much going for him. “No.” I said.
“Oh. Y'all smoke?”
“No.”
“Oh,” he said, perplexed. We could tell he was running out of modes of entertainment. “Y'all swear?”
“Like a sailor,” I said, throwing him for a loop.
He paused again. “Oh. Does that mean y'all swear a lot?”
“Yes...” I said. “Sailors are notorious for their profanity...” This just shut him up. He had absolutely no clue how to respond. He stared at us, his head tilting slightly to the left, and I swear I could see drool starting to come out of his mouth. We sat in silence like that for a long time.
“Well, is there anything to do here besides playing flashlight tag?” Mack asked, breaking the silence.
Frankie recovered from his stupor then, but we could tell he had to think long and hard, racking what little brains he had to come up with another answer.
“Well....y'all could...y'all...could...y'all could come to my baseball game!”
Party. I cannot think of one single thing I would rather do than drive across three towns to watch you play in your division x baseball game. Do you even have enough people in this town to make up a team? Does your scoreboard consist of Grandma Aggie marking each run with a tally on the one room school house's chalkboard?
“Yeah!” He said excitedly. “Come to my baseball game!” We could tell he was really proud of himself for coming up with such a riveting possibility.
“Oh, um, we would, but we're actually leaving to go tour colleges tomorrow, sorry,” Mack said. She's always been the diplomatic one.
Luckily, a girl walked over to Frankie at that point and he focused his attention on her, I mean, she was his sister, how could we compete? Mackenzie and I were left to contemplate alone on the wonders of southern living. Thank you God, I prayed, for letting me be born north of the Mason-Dixon Line.
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