KuKd Theme Song

Hello, Janis Joplins and Bob Dylans!

I've always liked to sing in the shower, but I've never been a songwriter. At least, I wasn't until I got embroiled in the KuKd shit storm of 2006-2007, when I finally had something to write songs about.

One day, I began writing folk songs in my head. I don't even like folk music that much - I'm more of a bass-thumping-booty-shaking-hip-hop kind of person. Still, the words came to me during my long drive to work, gelling in my brain without much thought, as though propelled by some sort of cosmic force of nature. As green freeway signs and Mount Rainier and shiny Mini Coopers whizzed by, I began belting these songs out to myself while going 70 miles an hour - mouth wide open and eyebrows scrunched together - not caring if the person in the lane beside me thought I looked like was having a solo orgasm in the car.

Then, a few weeks ago, Kevin and I were in Portland, Oregon for a spades-playing-and-beer-drinking excursion with friends, when we passed by this:



Standing there outside the store window, I suddenly remembered my folk songs. I could see those songs hovering inside my head like dusty little blobs of music notes, bored and wishing somebody would pay attention to them. I had this fleeting image of myself as Janis Joplin, sitting up on stage with a spotlight on me, singing my little ditties with Zachary applauding wildly from the MTV Realworld Penthouse for Bitchin' Stillborn Babes up above. I knew right then and there: I had to buy a guitar.

Not that I had any freakin' clue about HOW to play a guitar, but still. That was a minor detail that I figured would work itself out later. So I dragged Kevin into that store and asked if they had any lefty guitars on sale, and they did. So out came the credit card, and boom - suddenly I owned this instrument that I had no idea how to play.

Now, I should say that I did take piano lessons growing up and sang in school choir on and off, and lord knows I love to talk and yell (loudly), so I felt that turning myself into an overnight Dead Baby folk sensation wasn't nearly as implausible as it might seem.

So far, I've learned three chords. And - surprise, surprise - it is those exact three chords (whatever they are) that I decided do turn into the accompaniment for my very first song, "For Sure." I'm going to give you a sneak peek of my song, which I'm calling this Track 1 in the Knocked Up Knocked Down Folk Series.

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMERS: PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE GOING ANY FARTHER! IF YOU DO NOT READ THESE DISCLAIMERS LISTED BELOW, YOUR SHOES WILL CATCH ON FIRE IN FIVE MINUTES!

1) I just have to make clear that in real life, I don't have a lisp. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT; I'm just saying that I personally don't have one. Because I made this video using not a video camera but a crappy regular old digital camera that happens to have a video feature, it sounds a little fucked up. I wouldn't even have put forth this disclaimer if Kevin hadn't burst out laughing while watching the video, that adorable jerk.

2) I suck at guitar. Seriously, I do - especially the rhythm of it. I'm taking lessons and working on it, okay? So cut this Dead Baby Momma some slack. Even if it's just because I'm a Dead Baby Momma (that is, under ordinary circumstances you wouldn't feel sorry for me at all but rather admonish me for daring to put my twangy, out-of-tune chords out there for the public to be embarrassed by), feel sorry for me and forgive the twang. If I ever get to use my KuKd Sympathy Card for some...yeah, sympathy (ding ding ding! I sense a new word for our Knocktionary!), it's now.

3) Apologies in advance for dropping the F-bomb. To all you stillborn babes listening from up there, it's only okay to do that if you're a grown-up, and only under appropriate circumstances. Got that?

All right, boys and girls. CLICK HERE for the video.

Oh, and in case you're the type of person who likes to read the lyrics on the CD cover and sing along, here you go.

"For Sure"

You might have been a bratty toddler,
Screamin' and throwin' your food.
You might have been a horrible speller,
With bad punctuation too.
You might have been a high school drop-out,
thinking school was only a bore.
You might have turned into a druggie,
living dirty and jobless and poor.

But I don't care what you might have been...
I just wish I could've known for sure.

You might have been obsessive compulsive,
counting every step that you took.
You might have been a Bill O'Reilly fan,
reading every one of his books.
You might have had issues with anger,
getting pissed off and slammin' the door,
You might have been a cleptomanic
stealin' money from my drawer.

But I don't care what you might have been...
I just wish I could've known for sure.

You might have been valedictorian,
president of your school.
You might have been a hottie like your dad,
making all the girlies drool.
You might have been a famous scientist,
discovering all kinds of cures,
You might have been idealistic,
Running off to join the Peace Corps.

But I don't care what you might have been
I'm tired of imaging what you might have been
I don't give a fuck what you might have been

I just wish I could've known for sure.