So yesterday I mentioned that I was running the risk of going "full-teenager" and since nothing dark and dreary came to my rescue I now find myself driving down girly avenue with the pedal to the metal. I don't know exactly how I got here but I have set my sights upon Mr. Barry Gibb, he of the Bee Gees (I'm sure he needs no introduction).
I swear this man is the spawn of some Kennedy and a lion, with extra teeth and a rich mane that could fly him to heaven if he tried hard enough. I speak of course of the 70's version, and only of the one Gibb to be clear (I think the other two split the difference with the hotness genes). This eight foot satin God single-handedly invented chest hair and although I would have to be a dog to hear half of his lyrics he is/was the definition of machismo (it's true, I looked it up on Wikipedia). Just standing in place, without even touching someone, I'm sure he can simultaneously impregnate at least a dozen women. Speaking of, as a child I was convinced that Kip Winger was his love child from a one night stand with a pair of acid washed jeans.
Anyway, delirium and a case of Bop-itus have brought me to this weird low, wasting time on YouTube looking at a man that was famous before I knew what music was and is more than twice my age. Today I have officially regressed. Someone either make a "funny" Disney movie about how I am young again and give me all the box office earnings or intervene with a jarring CNN headline to break the spell.
BARRY THE BEE GEE:
Sergeant Pepper version [ Wrecking the Beatles ]
Early Bee Gee [ The 60's ]
SNL Barry [ Barry Gibb Talk Show ]
Classic Barry [ Staying Alive ]
[ Image cred Michael Ochs ]