Stupid Tuesday questions, Anne Boleyn edition
The list of people cooler than me is vast and ever-expanding. I long ago cashed in my chips on any claim to coolness, and have tried to hold steady in the “only moderately lame” category. Any attempts to establish coolness on my part have been ineffective at best and downright laughable most of the time.
High atop the mountain of people cooler than me is perched Emma Stone. For heaven’s sake, the woman has a tattoo on her wrist designed by Paul McCartney. Paul McCartney. If I happened to have a small number of reasonably-sized tattoos in discreet locations, I would be forced to admit that none of them were designed by former members of the Beatles. Indeed, they weren’t even designed by former members of Sha Na Na or Semisonic. No, they were chosen at random from the offerings at the tattoo parlors in a series of decisions that seemed good at the time, and which (in hindsight) were taken on faith to mean the things the people at the tattoo parlors said they meant.
If I had any tattoos, that is.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Emma Stone.
Not only is she cool enough to get Paul McCartney to design a tattoo for her (because, let’s just be honest, even if I’d asked I probably would not have had much luck on that front), she is also impossibly charming and beautiful and talented. Emma Stone’s coolness >>>>…..> mine.
And then there’s this:
Right next to “get Paul McCartney to design a tattoo for you” on the list of things I will almost certainly never be cool enough to accomplish is “get invited to wage a lip sync battle with Jimmy Fallon.” And even if I did, there is no way I could ever hope to match her epic win. While I could totally have gone toe to toe with her on “Hook” (which the Better Half can verify after I made him watch me sing the verse in question from memory), there is no competing with her version of “All I Do is Win.” Because that legitimately seems like all she is capable of doing.
But what if? What if I somehow got asked for reasons I cannot even begin to fathom? What then? What songs would I choose?
I thought about it long and hard, and have made my decisions.
Let’s be clear — I would not choose that song because I have any particular affection for it. Quite the opposite, actually. But (curse you, 90s radio!) because I heard that song so damn much back in the day I know all the words, and because the singer’s over the top performance would lend itself to the kind of theatrics required by a lip sync contest, it would be my opener.
For anyone who attended a dance I went to from high school through medical school (and I think there’s at least one of you out there reading who did), the next answer will be obvious.
(How to discuss this without seeming super gay? How to discuss this without seeming super gay?
There is no way to discuss this without seeming super gay.)
So, yeah. I used to kind of have this little routine I would do at dances, such that pretty much everyone who ever went to one I went to has now permanently associated me with the song in their brains. I finally retired it many years ago, but… yeah. I used to kind of have this little routine I would do at dances.
Thus, as cliche (and totally super gay) (which you can cram sideways, Kathy) as it is, I have no choice but to choose:
For good or ill, I would totally rock “Vogue.”
So that’s this week’s Question (thanks for the idea, Mr. Cupp) — what would your two songs be? What would you bring to match Jimmy Fallon?