Iron Hung

There is a remnant from a long-ago party during a cold winter in a fancy house in Deer Valley that involved getting into a lot of hot water (hot tubs, hot baths, hot saunas...) and putting up with a lot of a certain rather obnoxious gay boy climbing into the beds of hetero couples and wanting to talk the night away, not taking clues that he wasn't very welcome, and narrowly avoiding having his lights punched out by the surly, burly, SOBER and sleepy fellow I was snuggling.

There was also a lot of singing, for some reason, of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" which the next morning when the lyrics transformed to the following:

I.

Am.

O-VER-HUNG.

DA DA DA DA DA DA DA!

O-VER-HUNG.

I went home that morning and sang it to JAK! and it became a kind of code for when we were both still living at mom's house. If one of us stumbled into the kitchen wearing sunglasses and moaning the riff to "Iron Man," the other would pick right up on the signal and hurry to start scrambling some eggs.

This morning, after going to the bar last night to hear Smashy Smashy and The Tremula (and dance like a banshee with Alexa) I dragged myself out of bed feeling well below par, found I missed living with my brother, and was very tempted to call him up and yell "Da da da da da da da!" into the phone. Instead I'll just wait til tomorrow when both of us roll into the bakery after an hour or so of sleep apiece and we'll sing it to each other.

Comments

[Shannon]

I was shocked when you came and introduced yourself to me. You are a very pretty, fun gal. I'm jealous of your california trip.