The Snob is a big fan of good music. Even when it’s not sung in English. Especially if it falls into the soul/R&B/jazz continuum. Last year I discovered South Korea’s answer to Usher and Justin Timberlake, pop singer/actor/model/pop n’ lock enthusiast Rain, and his song “Escaping the Sun” on of all things, The Colbert Report. I went to Amazon.com in search for it, knowing full well it would be an import and cost way too much money. (I wanted for months to buy UK’s The Servant’s self-titled album, but then Amazon decided to stop teasing me and put it up for download.)
Anyway, long story short. Amazon does not have the Rain album that contains this song. This is worse than when I had to move heaven and earth online to get Mayumi Kojima’s “Hatsukoi” after I heard it in, of all things, a Nintendo commercial. I suppose I could stop being lazy and do some serious internet crunching to find the damn thing. Learn enough bootleg Anglicized Korean to determine which site will hook me up and which will just infect my hard drive with malware, pop ups n’ porn.
Why can’t it be easy to find like Japanese Pop’s Pizzicato Five or Asian American sample/hip hop mashup Cibo Matto? The man is doing songs with Omarion of all people! There is a demand. Meet it, marketplace!
But if anyone out there in Snob World knows how to hook a Korean pop loving sista up with some Rain that is not the bitorrent malware file from hell, I’d appreciate it, because, seriously …
I need this song in my life.
That said, the Los Angeles Lakers beat the shit out of San Antonio Friday night. It was not as sweet as when the Lakers beat the shit out of Utah. Because I live to watch the Jazz lose, but it was nice to see my fake Laker boyfriend is hot half-black Jewish incognegro Jordan Farmar and the rest of the second string get a chance to run around like little kids because the Lakers were up by 26 in the fourth quarter. They went on to win the game by 30 points after Luke Walton, perpetual whipping boy in our household, drained a three from downtown.
I’m just glad the Cavs didn’t make it to the Finals, because if they had and if the Lakers make it there I’d be torn between Farmar and my fake Cavs boyfriend Daniel Gibson, who people insisting on calling Boobie because that’s what the brother’s mother calls him. Stop insulting my fake Cavs boyfriend. He has a first name, you emasculating TNT announcers.
BTW: I totally love men who can shoot a three in the clutch. I’m still dreaming about Reggie Miller talking shit and raining threes on them. It’s sad that a dude that talented has zero rings.
Eva Longoria’s “desperate” ass took Tony Parker from me, so I don’t have a fake boyfriend on the Spurs anymore. Not that there would be any scenario where I would not root for the Lakers, fake boyfriends or no. I’ve loved them since Magic Johnson. I love them up or down. I made it through Kobe Bryant’s rape charge and Bryant throwing a hissyfit before the season began. I was down even during the pre-Kobe, Shaq years which were craptacular considering “hack a Shaq” was en vogue (is it ever NOT en vogue?) and I had to watch him destroy the team through his inability to get two at the foul line.
I just love the Lakers. The Lakers and the NFL’s Dallas Cowboys, are the only teams I’ve ever given a damn about. (I know I’m from St. Louis and hence contractually obligated to back the Cardinals, but … ahem … fuck the Cardinals.)
I know my teams of choice not beloved by all (mostly because they’re so arrogant from having legendary franchise histories behind them). But I love their chest pumping, nose thumbing, king-of-the-world asses. Confidence is sexy and they got sexy by the Escalades.
Stay sexy, you arrogant bastards.