For Valentine's Day: A Few Musical Bone-Zone Bummers
Today the Internet is awash with song suggestions to help you get your honeys into a sexin' mood, but I've collected some stories from completely real people that I in no way made up to serve as a warning that your Valentine's playlist has got to be foolproof.
I've chosen four to prove that with one wrong note, and your VD date could go from sweet to sour. So, just try to avoid these while you're making your mix.
Lou Bega, "Mambo #5 (A Little Bit of...)"
Back in 2000, I had just moved to the big smoke from out of the woop woop and I was with this right fit Sheila I met at uni. Before we was together I had shared a unit with Rita and gotten her name inked on my rib cage.
My new girl was always bashing my ears to get it covered but I've never had heaps of money, 'specially not then. Well, this one time we's goin' at it pretty hard and this goddamn song starts blarin' out the radio. It's all fine for a sec, but then this bloke goes singin' 'bout 'Rita."
Oi! My girl grabs her curlin' iron she had plugged in on the nightstand and gives me this..."
Buster Poindexter, "Hot Hot Hot"
I was a big fan of David's [Johansen] from back in the Dolls days. He tells these crazy stories, we've gotten to be good friends over the years. Anyway, he's doing this Buster Poindexter shtick and asks if I want to be in his video.
I can say this now, I'm divorced, there was this costume chick, probably one of the camera guy's girlfriends. Trish? Yvonne? I don't remember. She says the first time she got felt up was while watching Stripes in the theater.
I know an invitation when I hear one, so we slipped into my trailer for a quickie. While we were in there they had set up a Panavision right in front of my door. I was stuck in that trailer for six rounds of that fucking song with this girl trying to get me to give her a part in Ghostbusters 2.
Charlie Daniels Band, "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"
Back when I had first started working at the refinery I used to hang out at TJ's down on Cy. Well, one night this girl [redacted] I had known from Sunday School came up in there for her friend Sandee's birthday. This was about two years outta high school, and I hadn't seen her in maybe longer than that.
So, we get to talking and I tell her I'm working for Sinclair and she's says, "Just like in Urban Cowboy. Women love Urban Cowboy." I tell her "Well, I got the original motion picture soundtrack back at my apartment' and, 'Why don't we go back there and I'll teach you how to two-step?"
We get through the first two sides and when I get back to the couch after puttin' on the third she pulls me square on top of her and rams her tongue in my mouth. I'm making my way down her body just as "Don't It Make You Want to Dance' is coming to an end and when she hears that Satanic fiddle wail, her eyes just pop open and she is up and dressed and skeedaddled.
I saw her again when I attended an Easter service with my family a few years later, and she couldn't even look at me. I figure she took me for the Devil goin' down to Georgia that night.
Snap, "The Power"
Reg, my ex, had just broken up with me because he said I was getting fat. Determined to not let me get me down, I went to cruise Trafik where I met this total Marky Mark lookalike, real straight-acting.
We find an empty stall in the bathroom and as he's pounding me the lyrics hit me in such a profound way. "It's gettin' kinda heavy." "He's gonna break my heart." Where was my life heading? Rough trade with chasers in circuit bars? I just began to cry like Joan Crawford herself was beating me with a wire hanger.
The next morning I joined a gym with the goal of losing weight and winning back Reg. Suffice it to say, I changed my strategy and started dating a pastry chef.
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