Because I’m too nauseous to talk about any of the normally worthwhile topics I usually discuss on this site, topics like piss and poop and the smell of my dog’s feet, I thought I’d pass along a link to a fantastic site that was brought to my attention in an email from the lovely Stacey George:
From the website:
Fannypack are two very handsome guys and three real girls from Brooklyn, New York who make ultra fun songs that you can dance to. The songs are real. They are not over done, sappy rantings on topics that real teenagers donï¿½t know about. These girls fight and talk shit and sneak out of the house and go to parties and meet boys and dance all night and lord knows what else. This is real.
So in case you didn’t fully understand that, Fannypack are, like, real. Lord knows what kids are up to these days, but from the looks of the song titles I’d say they’re up to real things, things like hippopotami and cameltoes.
Stacey forwarded the link to me because she heard the “Cameltoe” song and thought of me. Should I be horrified that a song called “Cameltoe” made someone out there think of me? And more importantly, should I be horrified that I’m not at all surprised? And perhaps even more importantly, is the baby developing in my uterus horrified that his/her mother is writing about cameltoe on her personal website?