"Imagine having a birthday song sung for you that celebrated the joy of being, held no old associations and was energetically clear of old birthday consciousness."
Yes, imagine that. But whatever new-age melody you might have concocted using that fruity description, Chris James' "Joy-Full Birthday" will manage to surpass its shittiness. It's like the intro to "Sixteen Candles," as performed by the moaning zombies of long-dead doo-wop singers and the ghost of Color Me Badd's career. (Historical note: "Sixteen Candles" performers The Crests sold the trademark to their name to this greasy hair avalanche.)
Chris James boasts a wide array of vocal torture implements: If you click on his picture, he'll emit some sort of pan flute/dial tone noise for 15 excruciating seconds. This "esoteric healer" bases his workshops on the dubious, self-disproved premise "Everyone is born with a beautiful voice." In this case, telling people what they want to hear results in music no one wants to hear.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
Awful Links of the Day spotlights the worst and weirdest websites on the internet. And we're not talking "weird" in a good way either.