This little junkie will be going wee wee wee all the way to the Flight of the Conchords concert in the [not so] distant future. Because I am a super geek-pseudo stalker fan, the remainder of this post will consist of double entendres from Conchords lyrics that I will be using throughout the evening (a surprisingly easy task):
*Insert “If you know what I mean” here
Jemaine could sort my recycling*.
(Business Time)
They’re what I’m into*.
(If You’re Into It)
Don’t let anybody tell you they’re not humpable–they’re bumpable*.
(Bret, You’ve Got It Going On)
I wish more than their lyrics were bottomless*.
(Hip-Hopopatomos Vs. Rhymenoceros)
I’d like to check out their boom booms*.
(She’s So Hot, Boom)
I wouldn’t mind them uckin’ with my shi…*
(Mutha-uckas)
I’m drawn in by their grooveatational pull*.
(Bowie)
Maybe I could make an expedition to the south*?
(A Kiss Is Not A Contract)
Their dungarees make me hungry*.
Brett wouldn’t have to hustle to ruffle my truffle*.
(Sugalumps)
There’s just the right number of dicks on the dancefloor*.
(Too Many Dicks on the Dancefloor)
Little Junkies 