My Humps
- heyzeus
- Everday Unicorn
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Re: My Humps
This thread delivers.
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planet planet
- http://tinyurl.com/2e4x5hy
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Re: My Humps
Popeye, that's entirely too much analysis of that song. Lady lumps, lady humps, what's the difference?Popeye_Card wrote:Perhaps I'm confused, but I was under the impression that "humps" are buns, and "lovely lady lumps" are up top--hence the "in the back and in the front--check it out!" line.planet pujolsian wrote:I've still got em, but they're a pain in butt while jogging or trying to fit into a bridesmaid dress at my agesighyoung wrote:Someone cut them off?!planet pujolsian wrote:I wasn't ranting about the song, but rather my humps, along the same lines as Rad ranting about his hair and eyesight.![]()
I'm so sorry, planet.![]()
But look on the brightside--now that you're streamlined, you can jog sideways.
So if we're talking about the toppermost of the poppermost, the thread title needs to be changed to "My lovely lady lumps".
--P--
- Popeye_Card
- GRB's most intelligent & humble poster
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Re: My Humps
EXCUSE ME?!?!planet pujolsian wrote:
Popeye, that's entirely too much analysis of that song. Lady lumps, lady humps, what's the difference?
You can't analyze My Humps enough. It's like saying that people discuss Ulysses too much.
--P--
- Radbird
- There's someone in my head but it's not me
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Re: My Humps
I am honored and speechless.planet pujolsian wrote:This thread is my tribute to my pal, Radbird.
- sighyoung
- Mayor of GRB
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Re: My Humps
Actually, I believe both "humps" and "lovely lady lumps" refer to buns--especially given the paramour's infatuation with the "junk in the trunk".planet pujolsian wrote:Popeye, that's entirely too much analysis of that song. Lady lumps, lady humps, what's the difference?Popeye_Card wrote:Perhaps I'm confused, but I was under the impression that "humps" are buns, and "lovely lady lumps" are up top--hence the "in the back and in the front--check it out!" line.planet pujolsian wrote:I've still got em, but they're a pain in butt while jogging or trying to fit into a bridesmaid dress at my agesighyoung wrote:Someone cut them off?!planet pujolsian wrote:I wasn't ranting about the song, but rather my humps, along the same lines as Rad ranting about his hair and eyesight.![]()
I'm so sorry, planet.![]()
But look on the brightside--now that you're streamlined, you can jog sideways.
So if we're talking about the toppermost of the poppermost, the thread title needs to be changed to "My lovely lady lumps".
--P--
- sighyoung
- Mayor of GRB
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Re: My Humps
Precisely, Popeye. "Hump," "lumps," "love drunk," "junk," "trunk"-- I could spend hours discussing the song's use of assonance.Popeye_Card wrote:EXCUSE ME?!?!planet pujolsian wrote:
Popeye, that's entirely too much analysis of that song. Lady lumps, lady humps, what's the difference?
You can't analyze My Humps enough. It's like saying that people discuss Ulysses too much.
--P--
- Cronos
- In perpetuum
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Re: My Humps
Indeed; I'd say the song has quite a bit of assonance.
HI-YO!!!
HI-YO!!!
- Popeye_Card
- GRB's most intelligent & humble poster
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Re: My Humps
Ah, but the gentleman also wants to know about the breasts inside that shirt...sighyoung wrote:
Actually, I believe both "humps" and "lovely lady lumps" refer to buns--especially given the paramour's infatuation with the "junk in the trunk".
I stand by my theory. Humps = (|) Lady lumps = (.)(.)What you gon' do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon' do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I'ma make, make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
What you gon' do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off this hump.
What you gon' do wit all that breast?
All that breast inside that shirt?
I'ma make, make, make, make you work
Make you work, work, make you work.
--P--
- cardsfansince82
- is shooing asian children away from his fridge.
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Re: My Humps
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- sighyoung
- Mayor of GRB
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Re: My Humps
Good point, which to me speaks of the song's profound ambiguity, even ambivalence.Popeye_Card wrote:Ah, but the gentleman also wants to know about the breasts inside that shirt...sighyoung wrote:
Actually, I believe both "humps" and "lovely lady lumps" refer to buns--especially given the paramour's infatuation with the "junk in the trunk".
I stand by my theory. Humps = (|) Lady lumps = (.)(.)What you gon' do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon' do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I'ma make, make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
What you gon' do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off this hump.
What you gon' do wit all that breast?
All that breast inside that shirt?
I'ma make, make, make, make you work
Make you work, work, make you work.
--P--
The song begins by repeating, almost hypnotically, "My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps. (Check it out)", in which (without any prior context) lumps and hump (both sonically, and by virtue of being noun phrases placed side by side) are rendered equivalent. Here, the speaker surely is not saying that her chest is small.
Yet, during the course of the song, "lady lumps" does shift our aural and visual attention to the well-endowed chest--thereby implying not only the geometrical endowment of the speaker, but a complete epistemological shift on the part of men engaged with the speaker. Indeed, the song implies how the physical nature of the woman alters the minds and perceptions of the men--their shifting desires from one part of the anatomy to another (and the hypnotic repetition that reinforces and augments these desires) also highlights the men's reluctant acknowledgment of being mentally shaped and exploited.
It's so obvious, planet. But don't let me belabor the point.
I could go on, but I don't want planet to feel terrible about not finding much of significance or value in the song.




