Are you the lid for me?
Last night I had a full-length date with the guy I met through speed dating. We went to dinner at a restaurant more appropriate for large families with screaming babies (next to our table) and fat bikers who like their wings and their chicks hot, hot, hot! (next to our table), but it served the purpose for us. (Note that I think I’ve found a place that rivals Panera in hiring the flakiest wait staff in the world.)
Long story short: a six minute speed date was long enough for each of us to make the first cut of compatibility. Sixty minutes over bar food and screaming babies, not so much.
(Honestly, it was us – not the place – that didn’t click.)
Ah, well. I do believe there’s a lid for every pot. I can deal with a few cracks – even I have an itty bitty one (that’s a joke, I have 2, maybe 3) – but it has to be a good fit.
Where oh where are you, my crackpot of love?
For $9.99 you can listen to this new collection of Susan’s hits:
- I was looking for lids in all the wrong places…
- Hit me with your best pot…
- You… light up my kiln.
- And more!
Operators are standing by.
Help me out here people.
Achy Breaky Pot.
Baby I Love Your Lid.
Love to Lid You Baby.
I got nothing.
Oh, yeah! I knew someone could help me! (C, we are a sad, sad duo.)
- Pot Blooded?
- Hard to “Handle” (You know — because pots have handles…ok, it’s a reach)
- S.O.S. (Abba: “So when I’m dirty, darlin’ won’t you scrub me with S.O.S….”)
- Casserole With the Changes
- Souffle Down Sally
- I Wanna Crock And (soup) Bowl All Night
Pot Blooded is current my favorite, followed closely by You Light Up My Kiln.
you really pot me
ain’t no pot (like the one I got)
brown-eyed lid
don’t go breaking my pot
how deep is your pot
I got you lid
I just wanna to be your pot
I touch my pot
this lid’s in love with you
you’re no pot til some lid loves you
hey, good lookin’ (“what’chu got cookin?” — no changes on my part necessary)
this is sad — nothing tops “pot blooded”….
Pot blooded,
check it and see.
We go together like
carrots and peas.
C’mon baby,
do ya do more than blanche?
Pot blooded, I’m pot blooded.
You don’t have to lift my lid.
To make me boil over, kid.
Honey you oughta know.
Now you boil so fine.
Let me filet it on the line.
I wanna know,
if your flame… is turned high or low.
Now it’s up to you.
Can we bake a gourmet dish for two?
Just me and you.
I’ll show you poachin’
like you never knew.
Man, that song has a lot of lyrics. A lot of stupid, stupid lyrics. And every single line translates to “Hey, would you like to have sex?”
How Deep Is Your Pot sounds kinda dirty.
I think the Kinks actually wrote the song as “You Really Pot Me” first, then changed it. Like “Scrambled Eggs” became “Yesterday.”
“C’mon baby / Do you do more than blanche?” *That* is funny.
Cindy, Bob and Curt – Wow! you guys are on fire (or drugs)! These are so good and dirty I might have to release “Best of CrackPots II (Hey would you like to have sex?)” sooner than expected.
Bob, you win the prize. These lyrics are priceless…and, per your other message to me, it serves you right having them sound in your head over and over and over…
And, wouldn’t you know as I was about to fall asleep last night, I thought of these:
Crock This Way
Bang Your Pot
I must say, nothing beats Pot Blooded so far, but other readers (all 2 of you), don’t be shy. Other suggestions are welcome. This got me thinking that I should sponsor a contest one of these days?!
[...] then there was the other guy — the one I had gone out with after this summer’s speed dating event. He emailed me, not recognizing me from before. I sent him a nice reminder that we’d already [...]
[...] then there was the other guy — the one I had gone out with after this summer’s speed dating event. He emailed me, not recognizing me from before. I sent him a nice reminder that we’d already met [...]