69, Dude! Plus, what is it about musicians...

that makes them so GD sexy?

I was watching SNL last weekend and the musical guest was Muse. I like Muse in small doses; I discovered them when I read the Twilight series because, as you may know, Twilight author Stephenie Meyer was inspired by the band while writing all four of her treacly vamp novels. She even goes so far as to thank them in the acknowledgement at the beginning of each book, which always cracks me up because here she is, this very proper Mormon mother of three, who loves somber, angsty Eurotrash music.

I remember going to iTunes and downloading their Black Holes And Revelations album right before we had a long car trip planned. Jim and I rocked it out in the car on the way to PA and found them to be enjoyable, albeit rather heavy for us at times. In fact, we dubbed them "Wyld Stallyns*," and you'd better believe there was a lot of air-guitaring and crazy-eyes going on in the car that day. What can I say? We commit.

I find some of their songs to be extremely sexy. I really love Supermassive Black Hole, Knights of Cyrdonia, and Uprising, for instance. They have a heavy bassline, keening vocals, and a sort of funky electronica element. I dig it.

The band, however, is kind of fug. Bad teeth. Skinny. Pale. Not my cup o' tea, looks-wise.



Yet, when I see them play like I did on SNL the other night I think they're sexy as hell. Why is that? What is it about musicians that makes my heart race and my knees part weak? Part of it is talent, yes; I have a thing for talented men, and I always have. But there is more to it than that.

Is it that they have rhythm? Does that fact somehow translate to some sort of carnal knowledge that they will be good in the sack? Is it that they're great showmen who can work a crowd, AKA: they've got confidence? Yes and yes. Is it the fact that they could, ostensibly, have any woman that they want? Yes.

So they're fug. I still think they're hot for some odd reason.

My husband is not a musician but he is a massive music lover. He plays no instruments but is a music collector and kindly gives my very different musical tastes a fair listen. He doesn't criticize me for liking alternative music and Lady Gaga and I don't criticize him for being a die-hard Dead Head.

Every other guy I have ever dated was a musician. I've even fallen for guys before I knew they were musically-inclined. I'm a band groupie from way back, apparently.

So, there's that.

* In other news, today a lovely reader named Anne became follower #69, DUDES!



Thanks for making my Festivus dream come true, Anne!! Welcome to the OOBH. We've been expecting you....

In about an hour I'll be enduring our annual Yankee Swap and potluck lunch here at My Crap Job. You may remember me griping about it last December in my Schweddy Balls post. Some things never change. I requested that S. make her Schweddy Balls again this year and she obliged, so at least I can pop a couple of those rum-soaked bad boys and get my buzz on. My motto regarding my cow-workers this year has been a simple one: Fuck 'em! I've been so much happier ever since I decided not to give a crap.

Hasta la vista, babies!