oh, how the world turns

i just caught the end of this episode of the dog whisperer. here's a short clip. watch with your volume turned ON:

sure, ok, whatever lady. i'm definitely not going to judge somebody's non-harmful lifestyle, but jesus, this lady embodies everything i remember about LA. ba-da-da-DA! did you hear the background song? tchaikovsky's dance of the sugar plum fairy with accidental flats and sharps. and nothing (NOTHING) signifies cu-KOO! cu-KOO! more than playing a classical song with accidental flats and sharps. good song.

of course, it lead me to find this video. and it's kinda long so at least watch the first few seconds:

how does one acquire the hobby of playing glass harps? does it come about through homelessness? you'd need that perfect combination of restlessness to put yourself through glass harp training but still be excruciatingly bored enough to sit down and fill up 50 wine glasses. no matter, amazing talent.

afterward, youtube suggested to me this video. also kinda long, just watch the first few seconds:

again, amazing talent in that why-am-i-laughing sort of way. nice. normal. metal guitar.

unfortunately it holds no weight when compared to the rock stardom of this next video i found:

um. so. many. questions.

is this world of warcraft? why is the camera having a seizure? what the fuck is he flying in? how is it flying? why does he have blow-up doll face? is this a snowstorm or meteor shower? why was that elf not moving? wait. how did the elf and guitarist get from the ground to the flying refrigerator? AND WHATEVER YOU DO, WATCH UNTIL 1:43 when a blonde bimbo starts dancing like she just dropped acid during a coma. even after all this nonesense, the part most likely to give me nightmares was at 1:46 when the elf grabs his crotch, thug-like, and motherfuckin' STARES at the camera. alas, the more you learn, seems like the less you ever knew!

the truly significant act of finding all these new videos is that it forced me to look up the spelling of Tchaikovsky. Here, i learned i've been pronouncing it 'Tchai-cow-sky' all these years. i blame my poor pronunciation on the Beethoven movies, of which i was fond of in the early 90s. I'm pretty sure the family named one of Beethoven's pups, tchaikovsky, and fuck me if that little girl didn't call him "chai-chow-sky" or "chai-cow-sky" every single time. that's what i get for learning russian language pronunciation through a slack-jawed eight year old.