Where Is My Mind? - In The Kitchen, Probably

 Marilyn Manson, on the way to the bakery, probably

One Last Cake Before I Go Back To The Gym

by Jo Michelmore

It's been a couple of months now. I mean, I visit on and off, once a week at least, but it's been a couple of months since I had that daily routine, that every single day thing I used to do.

Gym.

Ok, I've visited on and off over the last few weeks, but I haven't had that routine thing of walking in the door to that sweaty, rubbery smell and the sounds of average pop music blaring from the TV's on the wall every-single-day. I've had a lot going on.

I work, I blog, I work, I go to gigs, I blog, I eat out, I blog, I holiday, I work, I blog, I have a lot of friends to drink tea with, I blog, I bake, I blog, I sleep every now and then, I blog...see how busy I am? This kind of random routine means I probably don't eat the best either.

I blog, I eat a piece of toast, I work, I blog, I drink coffee, I blog, I eat another piece of toast. See what's going on here?

I've got to get back there. I know it. I've got to eat healthier and exercise. Easy. I've got to make up for all the nutella and croissants I ate and beverages I may or may not have drunk on my last holiday in Europe. I know it. But before I do, I just want to celebrate one thing. Food. Delicious food.

Last week we left on the Sugababes, so this week, we're going to talk musicians just like them, musicians that celebrate food. The Sugababes reminded me of a song a beautiful and very, very good friend of mine has a fondness for.

 

She always had this HILARIOUS joke about this song (please read sarcasm into the word 'hilarious'). The joke involved asking someone about the song 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' and who it was by. It was always by The Cornflakes. Possibly the worst joke in the history of the world, ever. It's now got to the point where that joke is so bad it's good. It takes a special friendship to appreciate that kind of humour. This leads me to a much better song about sugar, in particular, brown sugar...

 

Technically, brown sugar is an unrefined sugar, which is exactly how I'd describe Mick Jagger and definitely Keith Richards and probably the other ones as well (anyone know who they are?) This reminds me of another unrefined band of which I only know two members.

 

Marilyn and Twiggy. They’re the two I know. It makes me uncomfortable that Marilyn Manson sings a song with the word 'cake' in the title, regardless of what other words he teams that with. Cake is sweet and delicious and beautiful and moreish and addictive and mostly probably the best thing ever (if you don't count ice cream). Marilyn Manson isn't any of those things (ok, maybe a little addictive, some days) but cake reminds me of another thing I love but shant be eating much of when I get back to the gym (I won't be smoking cigarettes either...)

 

How did this guy make a career out of being so bland? How did he make a song about chocolate milk and cigarettes (two quite deliciously addictive things) so damn boring? Are all his lyrics just poems he wrote in primary school? Is he the most boring singer ever? Nope, that's Chris Martin. Ok, but to make up for this atrocity, I'm going to leave you with a man who sung about another addictive flavour and a man I would never accuse of being boring. Ever.

 

Oh Jack. You and your terrible hair and your sunken eyes and your wide neck and your incredibly hot guitar playing. I welcome your sweaty, salty goodness any day. Oh Jack. Oh sigh. Sorry, excuse me, things just got a bit weird, didn’t they? Ahem, never mind. Where will Jack take my mind next week? Who cares, I’m going to watch that clip again.