Whoo! New Our Lady Peace downloads blasting on the iceBook, and I feel ready to answer the question posted in my guestbook: "if you don't want to be judged for your musical tastes and you're embarrassed by some of them yourself, why write the non-ode to mcewan? because he's shameless?"

The non-ode to Mr. Ewan McGregor, the man I lusted after until I read that he loves Oasis... well, originally I was going to write a silly little crush piece to him, calling him the John Travolta of the new millennium for his song-and-dance routine in Moulin Rouge. Then I read an innocent little sentence on his website that said he loved Oasis, quite possibly the worst AND most arrogant band on the planet. If you have taste, you cannot listen to Oasis. Ewan, how could you? I was shattered. My lust object was flawed! Thus I decided to post a non-ode to make this piece of info public while simultaneously exposing my own enjoyment of this tragically flawed figure's work, making me tragically flawed by association, I suppose.

I still like Ewan. I will still listen to him sing songs from Moulin Rouge day and night until I grow weary of his tenor. I might even be goofy enough to buy an album of his, if he should ever get it into his head that stardom on the film circuit is just not enough and he must form a band tout de suite. But he can no longer be an object of lust for me, because his taste in music sucks.

This, to make a short story long, is what I fear people do to me when I reveal that I like some band deemed lame. They will instantly lose respect for me and/or hold this flawed bit over me forever and ever.

Paranoid is my middle name, sweetie.

And, yes, I do like Our Lady Peace, so piss off.

CREDITS:
powered by d*land