‘She Shed’ commercial inspires lame attempt at re-writing Beatles lyrics

IMDB

By JOHN E. BIALAS
Broadmoor Bureau Chief

The State Farm “She Shed” television ad inspired my lame attempt last week at re-writing classic Beatles lyrics.

This post goes public with the results:

She said
Somebody burned down my she shed
Now I’m  getting a chichier she shed
After the agent said lightning struck my she shed
I said who put all those things in your she shed
Things that make you feel like you’re glad
Now this fire makes me feel like I’ll never have a he shed

 

All this dumb tongue-twisting stuff for a make-believe song I call “She Said He Shed” is because of the funny State Farm commercial in which a married woman calls an agent to report that her she shed is on fire.

The ad is when I became aware of she shed, the equivalent to a man cave.

Urban Dictionary defines a she shed as “a private room (at home) where a woman can relax, be alone and do whatever she pleases” and has an example of how a man would use the phrase.

My wife has turned the guest room into her own private She Shed. Its complete with angels, butterflies, incense, books, and flat screen TV. I am forbidden to enter!

A man cave, according to a hilarious Urban Dictionary definition, is “a term coined by metrosexuals who have forgotten what a garage is for.”

I don’t have a man cave, but Patty just had a she shed built for her behind our house, and Tilly hangs out there, too. Tilly thinks the she shed is hers as much as it is Patty’s. The 5-year-old basset will bark or cry day or night inside our home if she’s not included.

JOHN E. BIALAS
JOHN E. BIALAS

My “She Shed He Shed” lyrics are a stupid parody of the Beatles song “She Said, She Said” from “Revolver,” their 1966 album.

I found this cool demo on YouTube in which John Lennon sings the line “she’s making me feel like my trousers are gone.”

No one can compete with that.

I guess it’s time to light a fire to my “She Shed He Shed” lyrics.

See you later.

Featured image credit: IMDB

Please follow and like us:

Fergie, The Captain and his ‘Star-Spangled’ tingle

Editor’s note from John E. Bialas: I found only one person who enjoyed Fergie’s national anthem this past weekend and that person is named Captain Tenacious, the lifelong Playboy of the Mississippi Coast, sportswriting legend, Biloxi Sports Hall of Famer and future Gulfport Hall of Famer. He shares his love for Fergie in this guest commentary, a fine piece of quality journalism.

By CAPTAIN TENACIOUS
Special to the Broadmoor Bureau

No matter what all the haters say, Fergie sang American history’s most coochie-coochie version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” at the NBA All-Star Game in Los Angeles on Sunday.

It was lusty. It was sultry. It was hot. Fergie was hot. She made me hot.

Forget about patriotism. It was a frisky pop-culture moment, and I wanted Fergie to be my new girlfriend.

Her hair was down and her dark dress was captivating and shoulder-baring.

Twitter people have ripped, mocked and laughed at Fergie for her jazz-inspired performance. For example:

Though I haven’t seen such a post, I can only imagine that one of the snarkers tweeted, “The rendition was so bad, it sounded like Francis Scott Off-Key wrote it.”

I tingled in appreciation of Fergie’s presentation. I bet the All-Stars tingled, too, as they heard Fergie sing.  I’m sure that’s why Draymond Green was smiling.

I’m 66 years old going on 67 in June, but Fergie made me feel like a young man again.

Photo credit: Mundo Fergabee on Instagram. I endorse Fergabee’s message.

 

Please follow and like us:

I turned against Jerry Lewis when I was 11

A screen grab of Jerry Lewis' IMDB page.

By JOHN E. BIALAS
Broadmoor Bureau Chief

I turned against Jerry Lewis when I saw “The Nutty Professor” at a movie theater at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi in 1963, the year the film came out.

I was 11 years old at the time and months later I would enter the sixth grade at Nativity Elementary.

I was never a fan of “The Nutty Professor.” Jerry Lewis’ Nutty act was too goofy and his Joe Cool was too pompous, and the kid in me believed the latter part reflected the real Jerry. I didn’t like the real Jerry.

Give me his 1950s films and, much later, “The King of Comedy,” the 1982 Martin Scorsese work of geninus in which Rupert Pupkin stalks Jerry Langford. Those movies represent Jerry Lewis’ best.

My favorites include “The Delicate Delinquent,” “The Sad Sack,” “Rock-a-Bye Baby,” “The Geisha Boy,” “The Bellboy,” and “Cinderfella.”

All are from 1957 to 1960 and they are classic LOL comedies. A theater at a military base was usually the venue for the films because my Dad was a sergeant in the Air Force. His tours of duty took us to  Japan and the Philipines before we moved to Keesler in 1960.

We lived in base housing and our address was 5440 C Street, which was within walking distance of at least three movie theaters.

I saw a lot of movies at those theaters, and “The Nutty Professor” was a classic. It was a classic disappointment. I couldn’t handle Jerry Lewis playing two roles, one as Professor  Julius Kelp and the other as Buddy Love.

Perhaps I was too young to appreciate a man drinking a magic potion to improve his social life.

Had I been 21, maybe I would have enjoyed the premise.

After “The Nutty Professor,” Jerry Lewis had a couple of good 1960s films, one of them “The Disorderly Orderly,” but none matched the awesome entertainment he provided in the 1950s.

And don’t get me started on his Labor Day telethons. Though working for a great cause, the man was over the top and unwatchable.

I’m sorry I don’t love Jerry Lewis as much as you do, but his death brings out the contrarian in me.

 

 

 

 

Please follow and like us: