I Can Fangirl in Multiple Languages

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Shmeila isn’t allowed to say “sexy,” so she always shouts, “HEY LEXY LADY!”

This weekend I ran the Warrior Dash, so I mostly want to blog about being sore and stiff and bruised and about cleaning mud out of my bathing suit areas. But that would be off-theme, so instead I thought I’d tell you about my latest obsession/distraction from agonizing pain.

K-POP!

This candy-pop music export from Korea is fun and crack-level addictive. Loud! Shiny! And everyone involved is so pretty. You might think you aren’t familiar with K-Pop, but you are. You know the lamest of all examples: a little ditty called Gangnam Style. Even my kid (we’ll call her Shmeila) knows it.

But that song does have the elements: great beat, colorful video, Korean lyrics with that one crazy English line. HEY SEXY LADY!

My favorite K-Pop group is definitely Girls Generation. Frankly, they make the Spice Girls look a little fat and lazy. I heart them so much!

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Google Images – credit kpopstarz.com

One of the big critiques of K-Pop is that they are too manufactured. There are, like, these K-Pop schools where groups are assembled and trained! As Americans we are simply APPALLED that an ARTIST would not play in seedy bars before hitting it big, or something. I’m as against Big Business as the next homie, but c’mon, Kelly Clarkson*, who are we kidding? We have a lot of machines pumping out our artists, in the good ol’ USA.

Long live K-Pop! Until the next … Ooooh! Shiny!

*Kelly Clarkson has never said she is anti-K-Pop. In fact, she is a product of American Idol! Huh.

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3 thoughts on “I Can Fangirl in Multiple Languages

  1. Oh, Fanny – do you mind if I call you Fanny? Yeah, probably you do, but I’ve already typed it and I just have to keep moving on – you should meet @mousegoddess whom I’ve just tweeted for you because she happens to be an unofficial K-Pop archivist. I think you two could have good conversations.

      • I don’t know.
        But Noelle (the sister) and I had this big, ol’ conversation about the cartoon chick at the back of Playboy magazines in the ’80’s whose name was something like Annie Fanny and so I guess she sort of embodied all meanings of the term because she was kind of a hooker.
        This is why parents really need to keep their marital aids away from children; it creates confusion in childhood memories years later.
        Oh, geez, that reminds me: I should write up the story about my mom’s diaphragm.

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