Wednesday, June 8, 2011
I told you homeboy u can't touch this
Yeah that's how we're livin' and you know u can't touch this
Look in my eyes man u can't touch this
You know let me bust the funky lyrics u can't touch this
-----You Can't Touch This/MC Hammer
I had these harem pants. I thought I was a flygirl..no...I knew I was a freak-a-leek cutie.
I can't believe I wore them, wore them and did them right, with the flattest, pointiest, longest most wicked witch of the west shoes. Like these:
My top looked like this:
More brass than a military ball.
How my hair survived the daily crimping iron, well... I still need to sit under a heatlamp for 30 mins with a tube of VO5 dumped on it. Weekly. 30 years later and I think I've finally coaxed it back to life.
Then...THEN...I had the nerve to put these on my ears:
Oh, yes, I did.
Recognize them? Reese Witherspoon hung from them in Water For Elephants.
Do you have this visual? And, there I was, bustin' a move, arms flapping out like a chicken, popping those knees in and out, all the while swaying side to side.
I meant it when I danced to it, "Can't touch this.."
What happens to us? So confident and sure of ourselves back then, dressed up like that, and still able to sing, "Can't touch this.."
Is it life that knocks us down a few pegs? When did we start letting people other than ourselves determine our worth?
I can't tell you how it happened, but it did.
I can tell you that when "Can't Touch This" popped up on a commercial today, that I felt the old girl come back.
Maybe I'm not the old gray mare just yet.
You get one guess what I just uploaded
It's Hammer Time.
Got your flygirl right here.