Blogging is not a substitute for therapy, but another reason for it

I usually don't post the results of little name-memes like this on the rare occasion when I indulge, because usually the results are kind of mediocre unless I'mm willing to pound the "refresh" button for a while. This one, however, showed up on the first shot:

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the slipjig last night.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
from the Christmas Song Generator.

Get your own song :

Dear gods, I didn't think it was possible for that song to get any pervier.

...what the...?!

I really don't do my own reputation any favors. See, after years of introducing friends and loved ones to such joys as The Shaggs and The Legendary Stardust Cowboy, some of those close to me have developed the (not entirely unwarranted) belief that any music I recommend will necessarily display eardrum-bleeding levels of unadulterated awfulness. So I made the conscious decision a while back to limit the amount of wilfully bad music I inflict on those around me, in favor of the actually good music that comprises 97% of my collection.

The problem is that sometimes, just sometimes, something comes along that I simply cannot in good conscience keep to myself.

Folks, meet Wing.



I know I'm a bit behind the curve on this one (South Park already managed to finagle a guest appearance from her a while back), but when rafaela—and yes, you can blame her—insisted I seek her out, my jaw landed somewhere around my knees. If any of you were despairing at the loss of Mrs. Miller, I can assure you that she's somehow found her way to New Zealand, by way of Hong Kong. Please, I beg of you, check out her samples page. Heck, just read the album titles, and then try to carry on knowing that after making her reputation on interpretations of the works of Andrew Lloyd Webber and the Carpenters, she decided to put out an album of AC/DC covers—and then did another one. I am charmed beyond words.

And yes, she has a Christmas album. You're welcome.