The other night, The Kings of Leon had to cancel a concert after only three songs because a pigeon accidentally pooped in bassist Jared Followill's mouth. I say "accidentally", but I don't know. Maybe it was a critique of some sort. Either way, they were disgusted and they stopped the show, apologized to fans on Twitter and offered refunds to everyone.
The official line from the band was that conditions were "too unsanitary" to continue. Tell that to Ozzy. He'd bite the head off of a freakin' bat just to get the crowd warmed up a little. But canceling a gig just because of a pigeon pooping on you? Even if some got in your mouth? That's just a limp dick reaction right there.
Well the Kings have been there before. Limp dick territory, I mean. Even wrote a song* about it. Like to hear a little of it, well it goes a little something like this...
Soft
by The Kings of Leon
I used to see you every day
Used to see you every day
I danced around your folk and soul
I danced to all your fucking soul
I left you with your nose a bleedin
And your toes creepin' around
Ahhh so mundane and incomplete
Hand me down my pants and get me off this street
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get off im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come into your party but I'm soft
Behind the fringe of a whiskey high
Mutilating cat like eyes,
And in your nose blood decadence
You try to drag me into your bohemian dancing
You paint my fingers and you paint my toes,
You let your perfect nipple show
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get off im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come into your party but I'm soft
But, I'm Soft.
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get out im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come all over your party but I'm soft
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get out im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come all over your party but I'm soft
Used to see you every day
I danced around your folk and soul
I danced to all your fucking soul
I left you with your nose a bleedin
And your toes creepin' around
Ahhh so mundane and incomplete
Hand me down my pants and get me off this street
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get off im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come into your party but I'm soft
Behind the fringe of a whiskey high
Mutilating cat like eyes,
And in your nose blood decadence
You try to drag me into your bohemian dancing
You paint my fingers and you paint my toes,
You let your perfect nipple show
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get off im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come into your party but I'm soft
But, I'm Soft.
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get out im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come all over your party but I'm soft
I'm passed out in your garden,
I'm in I can't get out im so soft
I'd pop myself in your body,
I'd come all over your party but I'm soft
*Supposedly written about a case of whiskey-dick affecting one of the Hollowill brothers after an epic night of excess. Maybe even with super-model Kate Moss. I'd probably have issues getting it going with Kate Moss too. Chick's built like a 12-year old boy. And despite the obvious comment coming from Slyde, I ain't into 12-year old boys. Dig?
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Note: Remember to play the Badgerdaddy Trivia Challenge every day. I kid the KoL because I dig.
