Do you remember Alanis Morissette? Y’know, Alanis Morissette? The singer? Canadian, I think. You know, the one with the long hair over her boobs?
What do you mean, you know more than one person with long hair over their boobs?
Yes, her. If you’re a child of the 80s and 90s, like I am, you may remember Alanis. I do, didn’t really care much for her myself, she kind of blurred in with all the other singers like her, such as Sheryl Crow and Shania Twain (phwoar).
Anyway, one thing has griped me about Alanis’ song ‘Ironic’ for years: absolutely nothing in the song is ironic. It’s plain bad luck. Let’s take a look, shall we?
An old man, turned ninety-eight; he won the lottery, and died the next day - BAD LUCK.
It’s a black fly in your Chardonnay - BAD LUCK.
A traffic jam when you’re already late - again, BAD LUCK, but to be expected in the UK
I could go on. The song should have been renamed ‘Bad Luck’. But anyway, it doesn’t really matter. Just had to get it off my chest.
And now, just to annoy you:
You are now aware that your nose is constantly in your peripheral vision.
You now have an irresistible urge to swallow.
Many thanks.
I hate you! My bloody nose appears to have grown two foot and I can’t get it off my sodding face. AGH!
This has always bothered me too.
A lot.
More than a lot.
I think it’s fair to say, when this is our biggest concern, that we must be somehow blessed.
(though cursed with pedants disease…)
you stole this from ed byrne!!
I have literally never watched an Ed Byrne gig in my life.