“I smell sex and candy here. Who's that lounging in my chair?” Marcy Playground, Sex and Candy
Why does this song always make me picture two Oompa Loompas just going to town on each other while Willy Wonka watches, lounging in a chair and playing with his everlasting gobstopper?
Here is the problem: Sex is amazing. Candy is delicious. Smelling other people’s sex or candy is just upsetting, mainly because you are not the one getting a blow job or a Mr. Goodbar. Also, because smelling someone else’s bodily functions is just nasty. You might as well be sniffing farts and peanut butter.
Showing posts with label Sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sex. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Disgusting Lyric of the Day 09: Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band
“Oh, you come crash into me and I come into you. Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me. In a boy’s dream.” – Dave Matthews Band, Crash Into Me
If you were white and went to the college in the nineties, you probably had at least one friend who wore a hemp necklace and American Eagle cargo shorts who swore Dave Matthews was the best thing ever. That friend has now porked up and is living in the suburbs, where he is working on his third kid and his fourth viewing of The Hangover, but still listening to DMB on Easy 98.5. Even going past the really inane come/cum lyric, this song is seriously gross. Is Dave Matthews calling this lady’s vagina her world? Look, I love vaginas, but in the geography of a woman, a vagina is like South America. It’s a totally awesome continent with really fun things to do and it is sometimes dangerous. But South America ain’t the whole world. Believe me, you want to also spend time in Asia and Europe. And if you’re adventurous, maybe go back to Africa. But even after this whole, let me drive my seed in you because your vagina is the whole world lyric, Dave makes it even more disgusting. In a boy’s dream? Why are you dragging little boys into this, Dave?
If you were white and went to the college in the nineties, you probably had at least one friend who wore a hemp necklace and American Eagle cargo shorts who swore Dave Matthews was the best thing ever. That friend has now porked up and is living in the suburbs, where he is working on his third kid and his fourth viewing of The Hangover, but still listening to DMB on Easy 98.5. Even going past the really inane come/cum lyric, this song is seriously gross. Is Dave Matthews calling this lady’s vagina her world? Look, I love vaginas, but in the geography of a woman, a vagina is like South America. It’s a totally awesome continent with really fun things to do and it is sometimes dangerous. But South America ain’t the whole world. Believe me, you want to also spend time in Asia and Europe. And if you’re adventurous, maybe go back to Africa. But even after this whole, let me drive my seed in you because your vagina is the whole world lyric, Dave makes it even more disgusting. In a boy’s dream? Why are you dragging little boys into this, Dave?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Disgusting Lyric of the Day 07: All I Want to Do is Make Love to You by Heart
“And in the morning when he woke, all I left him is a note. I told him, ‘I am the flower. You are the seed. We walked in a garden. We planted a tree. Don’t try to find me, please don’t you dare. Just live in my memory, you’ll always be there.” – Heart, All I Want To Do Is Make Love to You
Welcome to the song that ruined Heart. Any awesomeness from “Barracuda” is outweighed by the sheer volume of shittitude from this turd fest. So, for those of you following along at home, Ann Wilson finds a drifter shuffling around in the rain, throws him in her car, takes him back to a hotel and has sex with him so she can have a baby. Sounds like a really awesome plan! What could go wrong from having unprotected sex from a drifter? He probably has really awesome genes you want to pass along to your children because there’s no chance he’s mentally unstable! So, Ann has her way with this dude and leaves this insane note. Is Ann the flower or is she the soil? Is she the soil, and her vagina is a flower growing from her lady soil? And the dirt clod they buried from which the tree grew her womb? It's all very confusing. At least he’ll always be in her memory. And his drifter herpes will always be in her blood.
Welcome to the song that ruined Heart. Any awesomeness from “Barracuda” is outweighed by the sheer volume of shittitude from this turd fest. So, for those of you following along at home, Ann Wilson finds a drifter shuffling around in the rain, throws him in her car, takes him back to a hotel and has sex with him so she can have a baby. Sounds like a really awesome plan! What could go wrong from having unprotected sex from a drifter? He probably has really awesome genes you want to pass along to your children because there’s no chance he’s mentally unstable! So, Ann has her way with this dude and leaves this insane note. Is Ann the flower or is she the soil? Is she the soil, and her vagina is a flower growing from her lady soil? And the dirt clod they buried from which the tree grew her womb? It's all very confusing. At least he’ll always be in her memory. And his drifter herpes will always be in her blood.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Disgusting Lyric R. Kelly Friday! : Sex In the Kitchen
Sex in the kitchen, over by the stove. Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls. Hands on the table, on your tippy toes. We’ll be making love like the restaurant was closed. – R. Kelly, In the Kitchen
R. Kelly starts with a kind of normal situation. He wants to have sex in the kitchen. Sure, it’s kind of unappetizing and God knows what the hell R. Kelly is going to do with buttered rolls. From what I have heard, he seriously has a problem with warm, golden liquids. And yeah, it’s potentially a health hazard, especially if you put your sensitive areas on a place where you were recently handling raw chicken. Still, as gross as an idea as a salmonella-filled vajayjay is, this is pretty mild territory for an R. Kelly song. Until he suddenly mentions, by the way, let’s do this like no one else is in the restaurant. So…R. Kelly is having sex in the kitchen of a packed restaurant? Forget nobody seeing you, R., I don’t want your love juices anywhere near my Riblets Basket. This is one reason why I never eat anywhere you can’t see exactly what is going on in the kitchen.
R. Kelly starts with a kind of normal situation. He wants to have sex in the kitchen. Sure, it’s kind of unappetizing and God knows what the hell R. Kelly is going to do with buttered rolls. From what I have heard, he seriously has a problem with warm, golden liquids. And yeah, it’s potentially a health hazard, especially if you put your sensitive areas on a place where you were recently handling raw chicken. Still, as gross as an idea as a salmonella-filled vajayjay is, this is pretty mild territory for an R. Kelly song. Until he suddenly mentions, by the way, let’s do this like no one else is in the restaurant. So…R. Kelly is having sex in the kitchen of a packed restaurant? Forget nobody seeing you, R., I don’t want your love juices anywhere near my Riblets Basket. This is one reason why I never eat anywhere you can’t see exactly what is going on in the kitchen.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Disgusting Lyric of the Day 03: Tonight's the Night by Rod Stewart
“Spread your wings and let me come inside.” – Rod Stewart, Tonight’s the Night
Rod Stewart is famous for many things, like being awesome in the seventies and then being awful for the rest of his life. Rod’s also known for having his stomach pumped after swallowing Richard Gere’s gerbil, who then himself had to have his stomach pumped for swallowing a gallon of Elton John’s semen, which is an awful lot of semen for a gerbil. But Mr. Stewart is probably best known for having hair like a frightening bird creature that one might see in an 80’s era Jim Henson fantasy film. Which helps make this line even more disgusting. Birds have legs they walk on and wings they fly with. So how do wings translate to legs exactly? Is Rod having sex with some hybrid bird-human type creation that only he can communicate with? Because no human has ever had sex with another human after basically saying, “Spread your legs, because I’m about to get all up in there.” But Rod doesn’t just want to sex up this foul birdthing, he wants to full on shoot a load inside of it. Every time you hear this song, try to not think of Rod hip deep inside of Big Bird, lost in the throes of a lusty romance.
Rod Stewart is famous for many things, like being awesome in the seventies and then being awful for the rest of his life. Rod’s also known for having his stomach pumped after swallowing Richard Gere’s gerbil, who then himself had to have his stomach pumped for swallowing a gallon of Elton John’s semen, which is an awful lot of semen for a gerbil. But Mr. Stewart is probably best known for having hair like a frightening bird creature that one might see in an 80’s era Jim Henson fantasy film. Which helps make this line even more disgusting. Birds have legs they walk on and wings they fly with. So how do wings translate to legs exactly? Is Rod having sex with some hybrid bird-human type creation that only he can communicate with? Because no human has ever had sex with another human after basically saying, “Spread your legs, because I’m about to get all up in there.” But Rod doesn’t just want to sex up this foul birdthing, he wants to full on shoot a load inside of it. Every time you hear this song, try to not think of Rod hip deep inside of Big Bird, lost in the throes of a lusty romance.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Disgusting Lyric of the Day 02: Your Body Is a Wonderland by John Mayer
“One mile to every inch of your skin like porcelain. One pair of candy lips and your bubblegum tongue.” – John Mayer, Your Body is a Wonderland
John Mayer is incredibly good looking, a funny talk show guest and a soul-crushingly boring musician. Also, judging by “Your Body is a Wonderland,” he is apparently dating a freak of nature. The young Mr. Mayer’s lady friend has some horrible skin complexion that makes her normally elastic skin seem like the same substance I eat my dinner off of. Who hasn’t dreamed of having their complexion being compared favorably to the creepy porcelain Precious Moments figurines. The lucky lady in question also has candy lips. They taste great and you can rip them off for a quick after-sex snack. But by far, the most disgusting part of this lyric by Mr. Mayer is the bubblegum tongue. Where to even start? Who hasn’t looked at a wad of chewed up, flavorless Bazooka and thought, “Yes, this is what my girlfriend’s tongue is exactly like. In fact, I would like her to drag this sticky, formless substance across my nether regions.” That is exactly why millions of teenage boys jerk off with a mouthful of Big League Chew in their hands. Congratulations! You’re not dating a woman, John. You’re fucking a candy dish.
John Mayer is incredibly good looking, a funny talk show guest and a soul-crushingly boring musician. Also, judging by “Your Body is a Wonderland,” he is apparently dating a freak of nature. The young Mr. Mayer’s lady friend has some horrible skin complexion that makes her normally elastic skin seem like the same substance I eat my dinner off of. Who hasn’t dreamed of having their complexion being compared favorably to the creepy porcelain Precious Moments figurines. The lucky lady in question also has candy lips. They taste great and you can rip them off for a quick after-sex snack. But by far, the most disgusting part of this lyric by Mr. Mayer is the bubblegum tongue. Where to even start? Who hasn’t looked at a wad of chewed up, flavorless Bazooka and thought, “Yes, this is what my girlfriend’s tongue is exactly like. In fact, I would like her to drag this sticky, formless substance across my nether regions.” That is exactly why millions of teenage boys jerk off with a mouthful of Big League Chew in their hands. Congratulations! You’re not dating a woman, John. You’re fucking a candy dish.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
