I think I may have lost it. Well, but only if spending an hour reading reviews of a David Hasselhoff CD over at Amazon indicates insanity. If it doesn’t, then phheww, I am A-OK, Non-Insane.
Don’t ask me how it happened. Please. I don’t remember; got that?? I DON’T REMEMBER!! Probably someone slipped some roofies into my iced coffee, shoved the laptop into my sleeping hands, smushed my floppy fingers around the keys until — hahaha — the David Hasselhoff reviews appeared on the screen. Oh, and then that same someone probably sat around, sipping non-roofied iced coffee, waiting for me to wake up and read, all bleary-eyed, not even knowing what I was reading until I was well into the God-knows-what of it all.
Yes, I’m sure that’s what it was. Some kind of hazing ritual. Yeah. Some kind of hideous violation where, ultimately, hilarity ensues!
Anyway, it seems The Hoff has this CD from ten years ago gloriously titled, “Looking For …. The Best.” And this thing has over a THOUSAND user reviews on Amazon, nearly all of which are “5 stars!”
Of course, it’s all part of a running joke, and the reviewers seem to be trying to outdo each other with the rampant cheesiness and ridiculousness of their descriptions. They blatanly misspell Hasselhoff’s name or give him an entirely new name, all while shamelessly rhapsodizing about that which is truly awful. Still, I found it hysterical, reading through some of them.
Maybe it was just the roofies.
Here’s a sampling of the reviews:
David Hazelnut has done it again. Listening to this CD is like being dead: it’s never gonna get any better. Because this CD is unbetterable. It’s the best.
*****
The great German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said ‘God is Dead.’ I believed him until hearing David Handelhopp’s greatest hits. Had Nietzsche been alive to hear the awe strikingly fantastical audial experience atop the Berlin wall, he would have realised that Harkeldoff is his Superman ….
*****
Dungle Hassapoff has paved the way for the rest of us leather jacket clad mortals. He has turned a meager pathway into an open fireroad of hope for wondrous achievement. The sounds are clearly dizzying, much like making out with a girl in a parked car, then realizing that it’s your sister…and then continuing on.
*****
Truly the successor of Schoenberg, dissonance sprouts from his vocal cords like an incontrollable verbal geyser (with hair) …. Philosophy incarnate, his lyrics are ripe with significance.
*****
If someone were to ask me what my definition of “timeless” was, I would open my shirt and show this CD hanging from its gold chain.
*****
There are reportedly thousands of registered songs in the planet, and mere hundreds of them have been sung by David. I say: Leave no song uncovered. Leave no ballad unspun, leave no ditty un-spoke, leave no scat un-scatted.
*****
These songs are just amazing. They cover everything from Freedom for the World to Looking for Freedom for the World. And they touch us in ways we never wanted.
*****
It sends shivers down my back to recount the sensations I felt upon hearing “Flying On the Wings of Tenderness.” It was if cherubim and seraphim were running their ghostly fingers through my afro. Gabriel’s horn was raised and tooted directly at my crotch.
*****
Listen for yourself… while mere words are wholly insufficient, a mere ghost of the all consuming rapture that is Drongvoid Hargleswitchy, they reveal some of the living beauty:
“We’re flying on the wings of tenderness
Riding the rivers of gentleness
Into the garden of love wi’ll flow and watch it grow together
We’ll build a castle out of honesty”
*****
He pulls you into his reality with songful lyrics and heartful thoughts. The tunes are animal-like but passionate, pulling a resonance of life that not many others are apt to pull.
*****
David’s guitar solo stimulates memories of being force fed tapioca as a child.
*****
In many ways, this CD is a microcosm of society in the 21st century.
I would sum up this CD with the following words:
INSPIRATION, GESTICULATION, LIBERATION, EXCLAMATION
*****
If you want to rock out with your parents, or your cool friends, everyone is sure to love “Looking For.”
*****
Like a glittering, solid-gold lighthouse in a fog of puke, David Graffenberg lights up the night with his dazzling display of heterosexual pop hits. He seizes the microphone and punishes it (and us) for fifty straight minutes. From “Crazy For You” to “Everybody Sunshine,” he emanates from your speakers, stinking up your trailer home with pure vocal heaven. Synth beats startle and confuse your house dogs, and the shrill guitar solos arouse the raccoons going through your garbage out back. You meanwhile drown in the utter bliss of David’s vocal charms, a voice that your cousin Deke compared to “three goats kicking a bucket of wolverines.” Your ex-girlfriend once said you would never amount to much. She’s right, but at least you’re enjoying great music at home.
*****
What is this disintegrating edifice we call life?
Where will that bewildering highway of creation lead?
When will those shackles of existence be lifted, and our weary souls transcend to some higher plane?
Rarely do 80’s homo-erotic, perma-tanned, medallion-donning, leather-clad, mullet-sporting, cheese-mongering Miami-Vice rejects produce music so expansive, so stirring and so intellectually acute that it urges one to muse on their own fragile mortality, their own existential disillusion. Yet here, oh wondrous demi-god of Saturday afternoon tee-vee, you have created an Adonis of poise and sound.
Probing behind the murky facade of the flashy materialism and souless decadence of his era, and with a wisdom and humanity far beyond his 79 years is, of course, the wonderful Doctor Menglerhoff.
*****
There’s no escape from his bottomless Black Hole of soul – not that any sane person would want to escape, of course.
*****
I dunno. I just could not stop reading them!
Now, get someone to slip you some roofies and go read ’em yourself.
I love this! You find the best stuff.
My dh’s library once received a self-published book, whose author would call up and ask for it several times a week, using disguised voices.
Its page on Amazon boasted about 200 reviews, all obviously written by herself.
We looked up some of her local ‘reviewers’, who didn’t exist.
They were all hysterically overwritten – this girl did not know the meaning of restraint, or how to dis-engage the CAPS LOCK.
It will drive me nuts until I remember the title of this dumb book – we’ve both repressed it.
Those are wonderful reviews, better than any real ones.
Artful use of elipses and adding exclamation points can make reviews of a bad BOOK look glowing when placed on the back cover. How about…
“This is one…book!”
“It’s 170 pages long!”
“I never thought I’d read anything like this!”
Fantastic. Thank you David Tasslehoff for providing us a collective object for scorn.
It gives me such unbelievable hope to know that there are so many funny funny people on this earth.
//Dungle Hassapoff has paved the way for the rest of us leather jacket clad mortals. He has turned a meager pathway into an open fireroad of hope for wondrous achievement. The sounds are clearly dizzying, much like making out with a girl in a parked car, then realizing that it’s your sister…and then continuing on.//
“an open fireroad of hope”
I cannot stop laughing!!!
red — I know! There are just so many funny bits:
/leave no scat un-scatted./
/you have created an Adonis of poise and sound./
“Adonis of poise and sound”?? I mean, what is that? hahahaha!
/much like making out with a girl in a parked car, then realizing that it’s your sister…and then continuing on./
That one kills me.
Oh, and those lyrics to the “Tenderness” song? Those are ACTUAL lyrics. I checked.
/We’ll build a castle out of honesty/??
I don’t think so, “The Hoff.” You seem to be deeply invested in everyone lying to you about your awesomeness.
You just keep building your little leather castle of shame, honey.
If anyone ever promised me that he would build a “castle of our honesty” I think I would punch him in the mouth.
When I hear the phrase “castle of honesty,” I picture myself trapped a la Dorothy in a dank dark room listening to some wussy fellow sob his life to me while I watch the sands of mine run out …..
No, The Hoff, NO!
“Get out of my car!”
No, The Hoff, NO!
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Was one of the reviews by Dirk Nowitski? Poor Dirk. The Miami Heat kept teasing him about that one.
“If someone were to ask me what my definition of ‘timeless’ was, I would open my shirt and show this CD hanging from its gold chain.”
i am going to use this in conversation one day!