DJ Coochie-Coo

Yo Yo Yo!

This joint goes out to my homies Baby Max and Lil' Josie, mad props to Leroy the Backyardigan and all the preemies down in South America - stay strong...

I have found my true calling.

I am going to the world's first baby DJ.

Our newborn, Sadie, has come to us programmed with three modes:

- sleeping
- sucking on a boob
- screaming her fucking eyes out.

Apparently this is not a factory defect - many babies are shipped like this. Needless to say it is wreaking havoc on our ear drums, not to mention the wife's gazongas.

"Screaming her fucking her eyes out" seems to be Sadie's default. If we don't shove a hooter in her mouth or get her to fall asleep it's like listening to surgery with no anesthesia. Needless to say, getting her to go night night is a major fucking priority in our house.

Those who know me, know I am a music freak. I make John Cusak in High Fidelity look like a freshman. I have been mastering the art of the mixed tape since grade school and collecting enough useless music knowledge I used to bore the shit out of Matt Pinfield.

Tonight, while trying to get Sadie to fall asleep, I started singing to her. Never mind my nails on a chalkboard voice, its all in the delivery you fucking Simon Cowells. My first joint hit right on the niz-zipple. "Daisy (Bicycle Built For Two)." Why you ask? A) The "daisy, daisy" was easily replacable with "Sadie, Sadie" and B) that scene from 2001 where Dave is dismantling the H.A.L. 9000 always puts me to sleep by the time the fucking computer is warbling the last words of that song.

Wham-O. Quicker than you can say Similac, Sadie was out. She completely bypassed "scream her fucking eyes out" mode and downshifted right into screen saver mode.

I handed her to my wife, grabbed a blank cd and hopped on the computer while inspiration was still stroking me and whipped up the following mix. And the proof is in the fucking pudding. How do I know? Cause it's fucking 1:48 am and I have been sitting here since 10pm staring at Sadie and the cd player in her crib like I just composed a fucking Aria. So without further ado, I give you the "ZZZZZZZZZZ" mix. Feel free to try it on your PA system of a kid...

1. "Bicycle Built For Two" by Victor Johnson. Gotta start with the reliable.
2. "Blackbird" by The Beatles.
3. "We're Going To Be Friends" by The White Stripes.
4. "Such Great Heights" by Iron & Wine. (I felt the original Postal Service version was too sonically advanced for her at this stage.)
5. "Pink Moon" by Nick Drake.
6. "Julia" by The Beatles.
7. "Mother Nature's Son" by The Beatles
8. "English Tea" by Paul McCartney
9. "Jenny Wren" by Paul McCartney
10. "Yesterday" by The Beatles
11. "Good Night" by The Beatles
12. "Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel)" by Billy Joel.

So go figure, I always thought it was Vin Diesel, but apparently PAUL MCCARTNEY IS THE MOST BORING MOTHERFUCKER ON THE PLANET. Who'd a thunkit.

Of course I didn't hit upon the above mega-mix without a few misfires. Here are the jams that didn't make the final cut:

1. "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult. Don't know why.
2. "Thriller" by Michael Jackson. Don't know if it was the Vincent Price spoken word part or a genetic reaction to Michael Jackson in general, but she instantly shit herself.
3. "Angel of Death" by Slayer. Too much headbanging, not enough yawning.
4. "Cat's Cradle" by Harry Chapin. Probably would have worked, but the thought of subliminally making this song come true almost made ME weep uncontrollably.

So there you have. Sadie's Mega-Mix by DJ Coochie-Coo.

Peace, love and Pampers...

Seacrest Out.