"Handlebars" - The OConnellMD Remix

Okay, if you don't know the Flobots song, then this won't make a lot of sense to you. Even if you know it, perhaps it might behoove you to head to iTunes (my friend Tony paid me a quarter to plug that) and do a search under "Flobots" and find the song "Handlebars" before getting into this. I just got to listening to this song on the radio one day and started thinking that we all probably all have our own rap album in us somewhere. That would be the true album of "us", as most music speaks in abstracts and metaphors and universal ideas, where rap is unabashedly self-centered, self-involved and self-glorifying. Much like blogging...just with more bitches and hos and such. So if, like many celebrities, we all feel we deserve our own rap album (Sacramento Kings fans...you MUST find Chris Webber's rap album online one day. It'll slay you), what would yours sound like? Mine might start something like this (if I just sampled Flobots completely and just rewrote the lyrics). If you don't know the song, don't blame me if the pentameter looks funky and occasionally senseless to you. They wrote it that way. I just wrote over it. Word.

My wheelchair’s like a bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars
My wheelchair’s like a bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars
Look at me, look at me
Hands on the keys and my mind is free
I write
Like I’m a famous blogger
Maybe not famous but I’m apt to be
I can tell you what’s on my mind
I can tell you what I think’s important
I can blow your brain when I blog you blind
And I can hip your ass to the signs and portents
I can build a web page on the fly
And I can tell you mom jokes ‘til you cry
I know every scene in “Private Ryan”
And I’m not sure I get “Vanilla Sky”
My friend Tim’s art is off the hook
Me and my friend made a comic book
And guess how long it took?
Hey, we got day jobs, give us a break, so, look
I can pay claims if it’s a total loss
A total loss
A total loss
And I could hook you up but I’m not the boss
But I’m not the boss
But I’m not the boss
Look at me, look at me
Like Casanova with Dystrophy
Alive
So screw the doctors
They all guessed wrong we can all agree
I can write novels or a book of essays
I can get rejected by a magazine
I can divine a screenplay one hundred million box on its openin’ day
I can tell you why I’m a Browncoat
I can keep your secrets on the down-low, your business
I know how to keep it sacred
And I can show you how to hit the high notes
Stogies, Firefly and the Guinness
Me and my friends serve it up like tennis
I got a pacemaker keeping rhythm
I don’t got the dollars but I’m gonna get ‘em
‘Cause I can start a movement with no microphone
With no microphone
With no microphone
And I can plant a part of me inside of you
Me inside of you
Me inside of you
Look at me, look at me
Driving and I won’t stop
And I’m going to drive this flaming van ‘til I drop
My faith is solid
My power is sure
My game, I got it
My mind is the cure
I can rise to the top like Tony Robbins
And turn your ass on like Jackie Collins
Speak to your soul ‘til I leave you bawlin
Reach for your hand when I see you fallin
I can do anything I set my sights on
Just because I believe it
My future’s like Broadway with all the lights on
I planned my orbit and I’ll achieve it
‘Cause I’m above the world like a satellite
A satellite
A satellite
And I can sell you tickets to the promised land
To the promised land
To the promised land
And I can make it happen ‘cause it’s how I roll
‘Cause it’s how I roll
‘Cause it’s how I roll
‘Cause it’s how I roll
‘Cause it’s how I roll
‘Cause it’s how I roll
My wheelchair’s like a bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars
My wheelchair’s like a bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars