Conan...Shatner...and a Poem

Oh, the shame.

I have a secret to confess.

I really can't believe I'm going to tell you this.

Kristy, my world music loving friend, you should look away. I'm about to expose the shallow end of my musical gene pool.

I need to quit stalling.

Friends, all two of you still reading this FB orphaned blog, I have a weakness.

A prediliction, if you will.

I've tried to stop. I've tried immersion therapy in the good stuff, trying to cleanse my palate. (Jeebus, is that spelled right?)

But...but...I kind of, um, well, I may have spent more money on bad euro pop than on anything with a guitar in it. Music seems like such an indulgence, and because my tastes are sort of thrash-y I tend to leap at anything lighter.

Which is how I ended up with:

Robbie Williams

Lilly Allen

and

Freaking Lou Bega (Oh, the shame)

I also purchased my first Madonna album as she was going through her cowboy/Ali G phase.