I'm in Earworm Hell. Please. Make. It. Stop.
Was sick over the weekend. Daughter #2 decided to comfort me by snuggling with me. Nice thought, but I didn't have the heart to tell her she wiggles too much when she snuggles. Ordinarily... that's not a problem at all. But Sickly McSickerson (as I've come to be known lately) doesn't appreciate wigglers.
But that's not why I'm in hell. No, I wish that was all it was.
You see, Daughter #2 started channel surfing. And lo, it crept upon me so suddenly, I didn't even see it coming. Yes, it is the nightmare/cult classic that is Grease 2. And she begged me to watch it with her. I rolled over and tried to sleep to no avail.
Oh, sure. If you watch that cinematic feat of 1982 with the volume turned down, it's not so bad. If you listen to any of the parts that Lorna Luft sings, or even Michelle Pfeifer and Adrian Zmed (yes, THAT Adrian Zmed) in some songs, you'll be okay. But God help you once Maxwell Caulfield opens his mouth. With the volume on mute, he's a joy. Volume up? Not so much. Or Maureen Teefy. *shudder* Actors? Yes. Yes, they are. Singers. No. Not even close.
Here's the funny thing about Grease 2. Some of the songs are entertaining. We're not talking the caliber of the original Grease, but still entertaining. SOME.
Like, "Reproduction." Funny song. I might even be able to laugh at "Let's Do It For Our Country," but Maureen Teefy's voice couldn't even be helped along in post-production. Seriously? You can't make her sing in tune with all the fancy doo-dads and gadgets in the recording studio? Yikes!
As for the rest of the score? Ouch. Eeek. Gah. And because they are so bad... they stick in your head FOREVER!!!! (wait, I think I need another exclamation point or two)!! Watch that movie. I dare you not to get "Cool Rider" or "Who's That Guy" or "Score" stuck in your head. Try not to laugh during the pseudo-serious dream/heaven sequence with Michelle Pfeifer and Maxwell Caulfield. I double-dog dare you!
What's scarier is that you will be singing along with your earworm, and you won't even realize it until you're caught. I walked through the office yesterday singing, "Who's That Guy, on that motorcycle... what would they say if they knew it was Michael." Busted. Laughter erupting all around me. Those are HORRIBLE lyrics! Ack! And I was singing them! OUT LOUD!
Must go bury my head in the snow (due to lack of sand) for shame.