Showing posts with label dancing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dancing. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Some Of The Best Advice Is What You Know



How am I supposed to top Jeff's advice from Monday?

Exactly. Rather the tough act to follow. And - being wise beyond my years and knowing when not to try and best someone - I'm not even going to try.

Instead, I'll discuss what I know the ladies love.

Granted, there's actually little to say about going pantsless, one of my personal fortes. Either you don pants or you don't. End of story. (Side Note: Men don trousers, all three of The Unbelievables do. But we kowtow to the simple term "pants" for the sake of the masses.)

So I'll go with what the ladies really love: Dancing.

Everyone's got there own personal style, preferences, M.O., more when it comes to shaking one's booty. But I'll tell you this: It's rarely the moves that impress out there on dance floor. Just as importantly, it's getting into the groove, showing you mean it, actuating the dance in effortlessness. Calculated dancing doesn't cut the mustard. (Well it does ... but you can watch that for only so long before it becomes tedious.)

That's why I model many of my dance moves off the great Gene Gene The Dancing Machine from The Gong Show.

The video below says it all.


Hello, Ladies!

My personal guarantee is this: Ape some of these steps and you'll never lack a dance floor partner again.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

All Twerk And No Play

First, let's get this little nugget out of the way. Here is visual proof of why "Clarking" died out.



Um, yeah.

"Jeffing", that bizarre bug-spotting-then-stomping dance, became "The Roach", as danced by Tracy Turnblad aka Ricki Lake in the original Hairspray, and performed here in an awkward clip from American Bandstand by The Spats...






And then there's Michaeling, which is a bizarro pants-pulling conga line, and not, as Google would have you believe, being a mega fan of Michael Jackson (who he?).

As to twerking, all we can say is... this is one dance we'd like to see relegated to the wicker waste basket of history ASAP. It seems like it's basically a lap dance where no sitting is involved, and no lap either. Sticking your tush up and wiggling it a la Pepe le Pew does not make you Fred Astaire no matter how shiny your shoes and other accessories are, sorry.

So, we're working on it, and at the same time I believe we should try to resurrect a few dances from yesteryear that may have been overlooked. Jeffing and Michaeling sound fun, but Clarking is inadvisable unless you're a yoga instructor with the telephone number of a good osteopath. Or you could try this...

Al Coholic and his backing dancers, The Inebriate Women get loose.