So today I discovered this singer dude named James. To put it bluntly, I love this song. (Yes, I know I'm waaaaaaaay behind the power curve on this whole, uh, phenomenon - see previous post) OK, so the lyrics don't rock. I usually like the cerebral lyrics à la Sting's, but hey, who's listening to the words in this one? I just like his voice and the tune.
Can this be my HNT? I don't really get the point of the vid. If, indeed, there is a point. I suspect that perhaps the director wanted to raise awareness of OCD. In which case I'm grateful that he didn't go with the hand-washing version, wherein Mr. B. is forced to wash his hands until they bleed. I mean, seriously, when I get undressed, my clothes are flying off all over the place. Aren't yours? I suppose this is one reason why I need Flylady.
But being the completely serious person that you all know I am, I also wanted to share this very moving tribute to Mr. Blunt:
Having never heard of Jon Culshaw before this morning (also see previous post) I am now his newest and die-hardiest fan. Even though I still love JB. (nø, realli) The rhyming slang thing slays me.
A little Googling has also alerted me to the fact that the rest of the civilised world apparently loathes JB. So picture me doing exactly the same thing as both JB and JC, only in reverse and with an asbestos suit.