By Jef With One F
By Rocks Off
By Chris Lane
By Angelica Leicht
By Corey Deiterman
By Angelica Leicht
By Corey Deiterman
Unfortunately, the uptight old white people who still run the State Department realized at the last minute that Andrew WK was perhaps not in line with their uptight old-white-people values. I mean, he's part of that rock and roll stuff, and hard partying is destroying our society. So they pulled the plug on his mission.
Mr. WK released his own statement November 27. Apparently he feels like the State Department "judged a book by its cover" and he "would've done a great job and represented our nation with dignity and pride."
Maybe so, but what if the reason State rejected WK was, in fact, not because of his hard-partying ways but because (hear me out) they thought he didn't party hard enough. I know, I know, you're asking yourself, "Who parties harder than Andrew WK?" Hardly anyone, true, but the State Department may seek out these few elite partying options in WK's stead.
Flea: I know what you're thinking: Flea? Yes, Flea. The Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist has, for better or worse, partied so hard that he's watched a good deal of his friends die from partying too hard. He lived and breathed the party for the majority of the 1980s, and it's a wonder the man made it out himself. Plus, the bass just makes the party. There's not a party in the world that couldn't be improved by Flea's bass line to "Higher Ground." Turn that one up and you're golden for a good time.
Diddy: Diddy is the ultimate celebrity partier. It's questionable if he goes as hard as Andrew WK does, but one thing Diddy does have is class and style. A Diddy party is lower-key than an Andrew WK party, far sexier and, dare I say it, debonaire. If the State Department requires a party that will still be epic but not quite such a raucous mess, they might look to Diddy instead.
Keith Richards: Here's the deal. Keef has partied harder than anyone has any right to while still being alive. He's probably seen things that would even make Andrew WK blush. Enlisting Richards would be like dropping a tactical nuke of partying into Bahrain. It would be the party to end all parties, and would only be rivaled if we were sending in the Keith Richards of the 1960s.
JOY TO THE WORLD?
So this is five years of Sunny 99.1 Christmas hell.
By Craig Hlavaty
From 2011: "It's time to pass the torch and let someone else get Christmas on their shoes."
2012: And of course, no one stepped in to do this but me this year, which means that this is Year 5 with the blessed Christmas music melting into my ears over an afternoon. At this point, I would like to think of it as a yearly holiday party with myself, but with clothes on.
It's a time for me to enjoy my company with a cup of coffee, my desk fan blowing in my face, while me and I reflect on the past 11 months of being us. How dare Sunny 99.1 rip and tear me away from making my Best Albums of 2012 list like every other shut-in sad music writer in America? I didn't even think the Frank Ocean album was that special.
2 p.m.: Robin Rock is pumping up the volume this afternoon on Sunny. Luckily, the weather in Houston has cooperated to make listening to Christmas music bearable. Earlier, I saw a woman in a Rudolph costume walking down the street in front of the office.
"You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" kicks us off this year. I wish Thurl Ravenscroft cursed more in this song. It would really drive the point home that this dude was an outcast green bastard bent on stealing Christmas. Also, what was the Grinch? What kind of animal?
"Joy to the World" by Mannheim Steamroller. The name of the group always bothered me more than the music. It could be this great metal band name, but instead your grandparents put this dusty disc on repeat at every holiday until you steal the rest of their pain meds from their bathroom cabinet.
"Twelve Days of Christmas" by Perry Como, who would have been 100 years old this past May, but he's not. He's dead. Once called the "King of Casual" by Bing Crosby, he never lived to see the Snuggie.
Jesus, "All I Want for Christmas Is You" by Mariah Carey. I was worried I would only hear you once this afternoon. I think I can listen to this song all year long, and not because I imagine a young, hot, lithe Mariah Carey in velvety Christmas getup cavorting under a giant lighted tree with bottles of whiskey as ornaments, either.
Same goes for "Frosty the Snowman" from Jimmy Durante. But I didn't spend my formative teenage years masturbating to Jimmy Durante. There are not enough crooners like Durante anymore, people who get by on more or less being drunk and near a microphone where an orchestra might be.
Speaking of crooners, here comes "The Christmas Song" by Michael Bublé, off last year's appropriately titled Christmas album, which sold more copies than most every other record in 2011, making it the year's second-best-selling. Yes, Adele was No. 1.