Posts Tagged ‘music’

I recently got a new job. Technically this was the second job I have ever gotten, the first where nepotism was in no way involved. In fact, I didn’t know anywhere there. I didn’t even know the name of the company when I got a phone call about coming in. Without getting too into detail about the job so you can’t hunt me down and have sex with me at work, I get to sit at a desk while petting dogs all day. How great is that? I have other duties too like posting cute animal pictures on Facebook and running the business aspect of the business. I am very modest, but I can in all honesty say if I were to decide to just leave this business that it would fall apart. Admittedly, the power makes me much more obnoxious around others.

The new job requires me to wake up early, walk a lot, and commute on the train to get there. The train is unfortunately too ass-to-ass crowded that I can’t really do much except sniff other people’s armpits. Worse yet, my phone loses service halfway through the trip once we go underground. I’m left with doing the one thing I can do on my phone, making notes.

Each opportunity I get to make these clever notes I plan to make lists. One day while traveling I made a list of lists to make. The first list I made was possible punk rock band names. The real key to a good punk rock band name is to be offensive, in your face, and a little bit ironic. Looking off my phone, here is the list of possible names for my non-existent band. The majority of these were just the most offensive things I could think of without being openly vicious, or sometimes I forgot how to filter myself.

paramore(I’m using this picture in hopes it will annoy at least one person because they will think I consider Paramore a punk band)

-The Young Career Women

-The 9/11 Hijackers

-Remind the Teacher About the Homework

-The Flatchested Hooters Waitresses

-Europeans Traveling Abroad

-Fans of Michael Vick

-That Guy Who Doesn’t Call You Back

-Your Funny Fat Friend

-Adam Sandler Movies

-Pack of 20-Year-Old Italians

-The Newton Shooting Cover-Up

-The Columbine Class of ’99 Orchestra


-The Confident Fat Guys in Drag

-Pre-Op Tranny

-Sibling Sexual Tension

-Willem Dafoe’s Face

-Uterus Cyst

-George Zimmerman Hero Fund

-Fox News

-Jesus Christ Wasn’t Real

-Untitled Madea Movie

-Chimney Dildos

-Adam Walsh Head of Lettuce

-Sex in Marriage

-Hysterectomy Repeats Itself

-Betting Pete Rose’s Life

-The John Lennon Bulletproof Foreheads

-Smashmouth Coverband

-Mustache Food

-The Sandusky Kids

-My Big Fat Greek Foreskin

-Drunk Driving Accident with the Prom Queen

-Cigarettes for Your Health


-Public Bowel Movement

-Semi-Faked Orgasm

-Friend Zone 4 Life

-Bruised Testicles

-The Black Son-in-Laws

-Abe Lincoln Poo

-Felching for More

What would your incredibly offensive/grotesque/never able to join the mainstream because of its name punk rock band go by?

I started “contributing” things to the Yahoo Contributor’s Network. I am not a fan of the word contribute. It’s a word teachers would use whenever they felt you were not participating. Usually when a kid doesn’t participate it’s because there is a much bigger problem. Then the teachers embarrass the kid by calling him out on his bullshit and the kid goes home and cries. Then his parents meet together at the school to figure out what’s wrong with me. The school blames my parents and my parents blame the school system. A fist fight breaks out between my dad and the principal. My mom yanks a woman’s earring out through the flesh and due to the injury the woman gets an infection. The next two years are spent trying to keep my mom out of jail for “getting caught up in the heat of the moment” which is the sleazy lawyer’s advice. Meanwhile I am in 4th grade now, friendless, and weighing 200 pounds. My dad’s living in Peru and late in the year we find out he has received a sex change operation. After a 16 month sentence, my mom ends up serving a lifetime for her actions while incarcerated. My dad remarries and eventually drowns in his own semen, according to the autopsy report. All of this because I wouldn’t contribute.

But I’m contributing now. Here are the first three things that have been put up there. Whether they interest you or not, it’s helpful if you click on the links because I get paid per visit aka I may be able to make enough to buy a nothing. I’ve already submitted things that fall under the “humor” label so that should be more interesting for you…maybe. So just click on each. It’s helpful.

Three Baseball Teams and What They Should do at the Trade Deadline

Better Than Nirvana

Catchers Are the New Shortstops

If you want to contribute to Yahoo then Google “yahoo voices” and figure it out yourself. You won’t make much money, but if it gets picked up by one of the random Yahoo sites then you can earn a pretty penny. By pretty I mean around $2.

two dollar bill(I’d hit it)

I’ve had trouble coming up with any topics to write about as I’ve either been busy working on other things or crying. I decided to go back to a feature I enjoyed doing the first time, breaking down sound lyrics and saying cheeky things about them. For now I’m still sticking with Nickelback since they have undoubtedly some of the worst lyrics out there. Today’s piece, and it is a piece because it is a work of art, features the song I Figured You Out. This was possibly my mom’s least favorite song of all-time. I think her favorite song was the Two and a Half Men theme song. That’s saying something.

As always, my smartass remarks are in italics next to these beautiful lyrics.


Figured You Out by Nickelback

I like your pants around your feet (What a great opening line. I also enjoy the fact Chad Kroeger doesn’t leave options open for girls in skirts. Could this be a homage to how cold Canada is?)

And I like the dirt that’s on your knees (All right, you’re getting a little too obsessive)

And I like the way you still say please, while you’re looking up at me (You left out the rest. People say “Please don’t look at me Chad Kroeger, your face is weird”)

You’re like my favorite damn disease (You have favorite diseases? Where does throat cancer rank because I hope you get it)


And I love the places that we go (I bet Chad Kroeger’s talking about White Castle. That’s where he takes his dates)

And I love the people that you know (In a way he’s saying he loves himself and maybe this girl’s boss and neighbors. This is very Christian of him)

And I love the way you can’t say “No” too many long lines in a row (Okay maybe he’s talking about a theme park and how he wants her to ask her friends to cut in line which always annoys me when people do)

I love the powder on your nose (Nobody likes powder on noses. It’s why it stopped being fashionable)


Ouh, and now I know who you are (I know who you are, someone who writes dyslexic lyrics)

It wasn’t that hard (There’s a pill for that)

Just to figure you out (Now I’m thinking he’s talking about the Nickelodeon game show Figure It Out and he’s just bragging about knowing the answer)

Now I did, you wonder why (There’s no need to wonder why you figured me out, you have all this free time because you’re a bad musician who doesn’t put effort into lyrics)


And now I know who you are

It wasn’t that hard

Just to figure you out

Now I did, you wonder why (You said all this already)


I like the freckles on your chest (That’s my cancer you insensitive dick)

And I like the way you like me best (Nobody likes you best, especially not me)

And I like the way you’re not impressed, while you put me to the test (I’m not impressed because I know you will fail the test already you dumbass)


I like the white stains on your dress (That’s your cum and she should probably use that as evidence against you)

And I love the way you pass the check (If a girl goes out to dinner with Chad Kroeger, he better pay)

And I love the good times that you wreck (The good times that you wreck) (This makes no sense and shouldn’t have backing vocals to it because it’s a bad line anyway)


And I love your lack of self-respect (At least he admits he likes girls with no self-esteem)

While you’re passed out on the deck (Ummm)

I love my hands around your neck (And Avril Lavigne married this guy why?)


Ouh and I know who you are

It wasn’t that hard

Just to figure you out

Now I did, you wonder why (Yeah, you already told me all this)


And I know who you are

It wasn’t that hard

Just to figure you out

Now I did, you wonder why

Why not before, you never tried

Gone for good, and this is it (Maybe women wouldn’t leave you all the time if you didn’t start off by saying you like them pantsless then went on wandering nonsense rants)


I like your pants around your feet

And I like the dirt that’s on your knees

And I like the way you still say please, while you’re looking up at me

You’re like my favorite damn disease (Yes, we have been over this)


And I hate the places that we go

And I hate the people that you know

And I hate the way you can’t say “No” too many long lines in a row

I hate the powder on your nose (So now you hate this stuff? It took you about a minute and a half to change your whole damn opinion about someone? Chad Kroeger is the only person ever convinced of something by a child’s persuasive essay)


Ouh and now I know who you are (Yeah, I introduced myself to you as is common to do when you first meet someone, unlike you who immediately tells me you like my pants around my feet)

It wasn’t that hard (She noticed and she’s going to tell all her girlfriends about it teehee)

Just to figure you out (Because you’re so damn complicated are you Chad Kroeger?)

Now I did, you wonder why (No, I don’t even have a second thought about you)


And now I know who you are

It wasn’t that hard

Just to figure you out

Now I did, you wonder why

Why not before, you never tried (Trust me I tried. You put a lock on the door so I couldn’t get away)

Gone for good, and this is it (You’re going to be gone for good? Hallelujah!)

Ooh (Why must he always orgasm as his own lyrics?)

Please, for those of you who read the title and thought it was “Breaking Dawn Song Lyrics” exit immediately. This has nothing to do with vampires. This has something to do with a much more evil creature, the band Nickelback. I ended up not posting something I wrote about the song New Age Girl and how it’s all about blow jobs because it seemed like it would eliminate too much of my female readers. All it really comes down to is “she don’t eat meat but she sure like the bone” and the girl in the song, Mary Moon, thinks she is too good to “eat meat.” Seriously, I wrote way too much on the topic. You can thank me for not making you feel uncomfortable.

Forever there has been the one song by Nickelback that I have continuously felt like vomiting every time I heard it. I am of course talking about Nickelback’s song Photograph. We all hate this band, but have any of us ever really taken the time to break down the lyrics? I’m sure someone has. This is my turn. You can find my snarky remarks in ellipses beside these nauseating lyrics.

Look at this photograph (Why? Your whole band is ugly. Don’t start a song off being so demanding)

Every time I do it makes me laugh (So you’re suggesting humor to me now? You’re a dumb Canadian band. The last comedian you produced was Rick Moranis and he retired after his wife died)

How did our eyes get so red? (A lot of older photographs give people red eye. Or possibly you were on the marijuana)

And what the hell is on Joey’s head? (If Joey has any musical taste it’s not a pair of headphones listening to this song)

This is where I grew up (Ya don’t say…)

I think the present owner fixed it up (Wow, terrible lyrics. I hope the new family has sex where you had all these fond childhood memories)

I never knew we ever went without

The second floor is hard for sneakin’ out (These two lines don’t really mean anything other than he had strict parents I guess? I’m not sure. Too bad he didn’t fall out of that second floor window on his way to an ugly person party)

And this is where I went to school (Ya don’t say…)

Most of the time I had better things to do (I hope you don’t mean making music)

Criminal record says I broke in twice

I must of done it half a dozen times (He’s bragging about breaking into school immediately after saying he had better things to do. This guy is confusing. And why brag about only getting away with it 66% of the time?)

I wonder if it’s too late (To shut off this song?)

Should I go back and try to graduate? (Yes, please do. Become a plumber. Your lyrics are shit. You seem a natural)

Lot’s better now than it was back then

If I was them, I wouldn’t let me in (What’s better than back then? It’s not your hair. The fact you get Sum41’s sloppy seconds?)

Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, God, I (Did he just orgasm?)


Every memory of lookin’ out the back door (He has to look out the door because none of the kids want to invite him out to play)

I have the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor (Upload those pictures onto a computer you asshole)

It’s hard to say it

Time to say it

Good bye, good bye (You haven’t been there for years. You escaped long ago. This shouldn’t be hard)

Every memory of walkin’ out the front door (Walking out the front door because your parents don’t want you around anymore. I bet Nickelback guy would play music really loud in the basement until they finally kicked him out)

I found the photo of the friend I was lookin’ for (You sick bastard. He was looking for a picture of a child. I really hope it wasn’t a girl. He probably wanted to brag about an old girlfriend he slept with)

It’s hard to say it

Time to say it

Good bye, good bye, good bye

Remember the old arcade? (Yeah, it was the one place we didn’t have to listen to you reminisce about bullshit)

Blew every dollar that we ever made (I’m sure that’s not the only thing you blew to get a musical career)

The cops hated us hangin’ out (Yeah because your music was annoying and everyone complained)

They said somebody went and burnt it down (I bet the cops burnt it down hoping you were inside)

We use to listen to the radio

And sing along with every song we know (Were they as bad as this?)

We said someday we’d find out how it feels

To sing to more than just a steering wheel (Too bad he didn’t mean a shotgun barrel)

Kim’s the first girl I kissed (And then Kim became a lesbian)

I was so nervous that I nearly missed (No, she was trying to get away)

She’s had a couple of kids since then (And lucky for her they don’t have Chad Kroeger genetics)

I haven’t seen her since God knows when (I really hope God has more important things than keeping track of when you last saw your dumb girlfriends)

Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, God, I (Eww he did it again)


I miss that town (None of them miss you)

I miss their faces (That’s a creepy thing to say)

You can’t erase (This song from my memory?)

You can’t replace it (I think he’s referencing how the rest of the band wanted to replace the lead singer)

I miss it now

I can’t believe it

So hard to stay

Too hard to leave it (Shut up you damn townie and go somewhere new)

If I could relive those days

I know the one thing that would never change (People’s hatred for you?)


Look at this photograph (I’m looking damn it…)

Every time I do it makes me laugh (It makes you laugh? You just wrote a song about how miserable you are)

Every time I do it makes me (He didn’t finish…he didn’t finish writing his stupid song. What a lazy bastard. Who ends a song on an unfinished thought?)



Have you ever had someone tell you that a song reminded them of you? I think it only happened once for me. At least once that is worthy of writing about. I’m sure I remind lots of people about lots of songs. It’s amazing the things I will see or hear that remind me of other people. Every time I see a pork sandwich I think of this one girl I know who likes anal. Luckily I hardly ever see pork sandwiches. Even better, I hardly ever see Rachel “Backdoor” Rodriguez. She can no longer stand up straight anymore and it’s creepy.

The girl who told me I reminded her of two different songs was a lady who defined how much more wonderful MySpace was copmared to Facebook. Whenever I friend request random girls on Facebook they ask me who I am and I have to tell them I’m just a guy who thought she had nice breasts. Back on MySpace though, girls would actually add me to their friend’s list. I know I haven’t gone downhill from there because I’m thinner, sharper in the face, and a lot sassier than ever before. So why don’t wonderful things like this happen to me anymore?

sassy pants haley

(I was trying to find a picture of pants that said “sassy” on them but instead saw that Haley Joel Osmont has lost his dignity)

I forget how she found me but she did. She was the sister of one of my friend’s neighbor. So we were pretty much twins. I actually never ended up meeting her in person despite the fact we probably talked a lot online for close to two years. She didn’t live far away at all and we did have mutual associates. There was one factor that made me hesitant to ever actually hangout, I was almost 18 and she was in 8th grade.

Let’s pause for a moment before you start to think this is some sick pedophile story. Like I said, we never met. We never even talked dirty or anything like that. I’m being completely honest here too. The only time sex was even brought up was when I posted a MySpace bulletin (remember those?) asking if anyone wanted to blow me, you know, just to see what people’s opinions on the topic were. It was a school assignment. I got two messages. One was from a Goth girl in Massachusetts. The other was someone who would have gotten me locked up in prison.


(The Goth girl from Massachusetts pictured on the left)

My relationship with this girl was a very strange one. She would come to me for brotherly advice even though she had a brother only a year younger than me who could have done the same. I would help her out because she was a sweet girl and I guess we were actually friends. If anything she was the person who sexually harassed me. She posted “hey you’re hot” on my MySpace for everyone to see. Then her friend who ended up getting an abortion in 9th grade did the same thing. My girlfriend at the time saw and threatened to kill them both. The two younger girls were popular, attractive, and completely off-limits. This was some kind of sick joke. I was almost legally allowed to vote now and finally girls were noticing me years too late. I thought about cutting off my testicles. It made sense at the time.

Over time the girl started liking me more and more. She trusted me a whole bunch and would ask me to interpret songs for her because I was the smartest person she knew. What happened to me? I’m not the smartest person anyone knows. In exchange for interpreting lyrics, this young lady told me two songs that made her think about me.

The first song I reminded this girl of was “Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day. I asked her why this song made her think of me. She had no clue. The second song I reminded her of was a song created when Satan farted onto a dead orphan, “Photograph” by Nickelback.

What. The. Fuck.

Here I was, being incredibly nice and helpful and she was saying I was the equivalent to not only a Nickelback song but to THE Nickelback song. The worst one they have. The one where they talk about a piece of shit on Joey’s head. I was hurt.

Slowly we drifted apart as she got into high school and became more popular while I graduated and became the nothing I am today. We stopped talking sometime around the end of my senior year when she said her brother found out who I was then reported back to her. We stopped talking after this. Our creepy friendship did not ended with a bang, but a whimper. And by whimper I mean I cried in my bedroom for days.

sassy pants smoothie

(Then I made a brown smoothie and I felt better)

I’m not sure what her brother said, but it was not favorable I’m sure. If you have been reading me for a while, which you better have been, you may remember a similar story. I guess this is what they mean about history repeating itself. You can read about the other story here  then come to the same determination I have, 8th grade girls are shallow bitches who lack the ability to relate the proper songs to my personality.

So if you never have heard them, here are the songs that apparently defined who I was when I was 17.



Is there a song that reminds you of me? Is there a song that other people say reminds you of them?

Last summer a song came out called “Call Me Maybe.” I didn’t listen to it until recently. It’s nothing special. Still better than anything Van Halen ever did, but hearing a doctor use the words “terminal” and “no chance at remission” are better than Van Halen. I had a few observations about the music video I would like to go over nearly a year too late. Watch the video below and use it as a reference throughout this post.

My first and most obvious observation is how incredibly pale Carly Rae Jepsen is. I don’t even say this as an insult. I enjoy pale girls. I like to see a vein every now and again to make sure she’s not a robot or vampire or worst of all, a robot-vampire. I never realized how allergic to the sun she was. I think this likes me more though. In a country where Obama is president it’s nice to see whitey get a victory for once.

carly rae jepsen

(Where does the wall behind her end and her skin begin?)

A second observation I would like to make is how much this song sucks. It’s terrible. I wasn’t surprised it would be really bad. It was a popular song. There’s a reason why nobody ever knows any Nick Cave songs, he’s not popular and he rules. He could deflower Carly Rae Jepsen with his voice. I’m sure C.R.J. was deflowered many years ago already since she’s almost 30. If not, a nice blasting of Stagger Lee straight into her vagina will do the trick.

The main observation I had to make about this song/video is the guy in it. Carly Rae Jepsen falls for what is the typical “hunk.” He’s tall, muscular, has a tattoo across his chest, and doesn’t have enough fat on his face to pinch. How did kids in high school pinch his face? Am I the only one who spent 4 years getting their fat cheeks pinched by bullies?

What bothers me about this is the whole media stereotyping people thing and whatnot. We always hear about how there’s this image of what girls are supposed to look like but there’s also one about how men should look. I look nothing like this guy shirtless. Maybe if he was shorter, had poor self-esteem, and stood too close to a nuclear reactor then sure, I can see us having something in common.

call me maybe guy

(I guess I should at least be happy they made him a cocksucker in the end)

Ladies, it hurts when you post pictures of Ryan Gosling naked. I know most men won’t admit it, but it does. It stings. It’s like you’ve set an average standard and we have to live up to this. I can never be Ryan Gosling. He gets paid to be him. I’ll also never be Channing Tatum. I respect myself too much to have anything to do with the movies he involves himself with.

All I’m saying is couldn’t Carly Rae Jepsen have a crush on a neighbor who was a little more normal looking? The guy knows shit about cars too. She’d never have to worry about breaking down in a bad neighborhood. He could probably jog out there without breaking a sweat and help her out. Or maybe he knows nothing about cars other than how to pop the hood. He seems to be working under there for quite some time. If he knew what he was doing he’d probably finish up a lot quicker.

Of course in the end it turns out the guy is gay and Carly Rae Jepsen wasted her time. He’s also dumb because he didn’t leave his area code on his fake phone number. How does he know the guitar player he gives the number to lives in the same town? Plus gay guys don’t just go up and give other guys their number. He’d first throw out hints to find out the sexuality. Or maybe this guy is just such a stud that he doesn’t care what his neighbors think about him. How is this guy so incredibly awesome? I want to be him.

I guess you really can’t have a normal looking guy or girl being the crush in a music video. The music video was made for pale girls to fantasize about getting with the hot boy next door. I’m not the target demographic. With that said, I’m still a bit bothered how women sexualize these men. I only see one real solution this, continuing to sexual stereotypically beautiful women based on their looks and not their personalities or contributions to society. Until a picture of me ends up on Pinterest in somebody’s “Dream Man” board I’ll be judgmental and piggish. If you can’t beat them, join them.

ryan gosling meme

(Until there are memes of me popping up all over the place I will insult, berate  and laugh at the obituaries)

Congratulations Carly Rae Jepsen, you just set feminism back 4,000 years. Maybe not that long, but a few minutes at least.