Part 3 of Anniversary Week
On this, TJ Monkey’s one year anniversary I feel that it’s time I finally own up to our readership about some things. In my attempts over the past year to be funny, I have at times strayed away from the truth. It hurts me to admit this because I try at all times to be open and honest with you, the reader. (At this point it seems only appropriate to bring up the fact that very rarely are you open and honest with me. I didn’t want to bring it up, but hey – there it is.) And most of the time I really am truthful. I really did think I was falling in love with a girl one time and it turned out to be that I was simply very turned on by her Herbal Essence shampoo. I really have had a variety of bad experiences with bathing suit pockets and I really do pine for the time when I wore sweatpants and flip-up sunglasses and played Dungeons and Dragons.
At times I stretch the truth. Do I really think that sugar is the miracle cure? No. Do I really think that Mumia is “some kind of tasty crescent roll/pudding combination?” No. Am I really going to name my son Betteratthissportthaneverybodyelse? Well, actually yes. That was a stroke of pure genius.
However, there is one point where I do believe that I’ve been fully dishonest with you and now I come to my true confession:
I am neither in love nor obsessed with Belinda Carlisle.
OK, so it’s nothing like Luther at Augsburg but if you’re at all acquainted with my contributions to TJ Monkey’s it will likely come as at least a mild shock. Allow me to explain. It is true that Belinda Carlisle was my first crush. Watch the video for “Heaven is a Place on Earth”, it’s an absolute masterpiece. There’s Belinda spinning around looking all hot and then there’s a bunch of kids in weird costumes dancing with globes. It hits you on a lot of different levels.
It was this initial crush that inspired my reference to Ms. Carlisle in my first thought “On My Future Occupation as a Ho.” The song fit perfectly as a description for my logical interpretation of prostitution as the ideal job. And reading over my thought I was thoroughly amused by that little reference and so when I was stuck in a future thought I trotted Belinda back out to see if she would work her magic again. Belinda Carlisle had become my comedic crutch. Soon things worsened and she became my comedic walker and recently my comedic motor-powered Rascal©. I was throwing her in thoughts where her presence made no sense. I struggled for minutes (MINUTES!) trying to think of an ending for “On the Only One for Me.” It wasn’t till my brother pointed out to me in an email that Belinda Carlisle failed to meet several of the stipulations that I had laid out that I realized my dependency on Belinda Carlisle had gotten out of hand.
I could no longer continue with this pretend obsession about Belinda. I mean, heck, she’s gotta be more than 40 years old! Her face screams “plastic surgery” (especially when you yell, “What method did you use to alter your facial features?” at her) and the Go-Gos, while mildly entertaining, are AWFUL musicians. On top of all that, from everything I’ve heard she has the moral fiber of Jezebel on a low-bran diet. She was a cheap joke that for all I know could have been funny to no one but me. I apologize.
I hereby promise to you the TJ Monkey’s reader that I will never reference Belinda Carlisle in my thoughts again. She is gone from my life and I refuse to exploit female 80s pop-stars. That is, until I figure out the name of that 99 Luftballoons girl. She’s comic gold. Gold, Jerry!!