Biloxxxi's Woodshed

Continuing the theme from Terrible Christmas Songs Part 1, here’s part 2. Same Old Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg is not only my least favorite Christmas song of all time, it’s probably in my top 10 worst songs of all time. It’s just whiney and bad, and every time I hear it, a little piece of me dies.

How does one even begin to dissect a piece of aural cancer such as this? It sounds like an Air Supply song without any of the faux orchestration or the sexual tension lurking just beneath the surface. The lyrics are painfully descriptive. Listening to the song is like playing one of those text adventures  from your salad days on the Commodore 64. Even worse it has no chorus. Who the F writes a song with no chorus? That pretty much ruins your ringtone sales.  EDIT: Evidently it does have a chorus, but it’s cleverly hidden in the boredom of the song. See below.

Same Old Lang Syne starts out at about level 3 and never improves. It has no climax, no denoument, no nothing. It’s high point involves drinking a six-pack in the car, which, if porn has taught you anything, means that there should at least be a little wallowing around or something. Maybe a hand shandie. Something. Anything besides this above-ground gene pool of shattered dreams and faded memories. Each time I have the misfortune of listening to it, I halfway expect it to conclude with a shotgun blast and human brain matter oozing down the walls. Mine or his, it could go either way.

Lay your eyes on this pinnacle of songwriting:
We drank a toast to innocence,
We drank a toast to now,
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness,
But neither one knew how.

Oh, cry me a freakin’ river, Dan.

Also, why is this even a Christmas song? It’s one man’s plea for help with the closet door.

Thanks for gayin’ it up, Dan Fagelberg. Peace be with you.

Although Christmas is by far my favorite holiday, I cannot stand Christmas music. Perhaps it’s the fact that from November till the end of December I’m constantly bombarded by the same 40-50 songs that sucked when they came out, sucked when I was a kid, and still suck now. So for the next couple of weeks until that glorious day of Christmas, when maybe I’ll get those Vibram Five-Fingers shoes I’ve wanted, I’m gonna share with you the hardest-sucking, most cringe-inducing, make-you-wanna-slide-down-a-rusty-razorblade-into-a-pool-of-rubbing-alcohol Christmas songs of all time. Today’s entry: Baby, It’s Cold Outside a.k.a. The Date Rape Song.

This song has been performed by a metric shit-ton of performers since the late 40′s, but we’ll use the lyrics from the Jessica Simpson version. They’re all pretty much the same, but her’s is slightly more modern.The song is sung as a duet, with the female wanting to leave and the male wanting her to stay. Typical scenario, except this one takes a disturbing Silence of the Lambs style turn when the man asks if she’s “about a size six.” My comments are in bold.

Baby It’s Cold Outside
F: I really can’t stay
M: Baby it’s cold outside
F: I’ve got to go away
M: Baby it’s cold outside
F: This evening has been
M: Been hoping that you’d drop in
F: So very nice
M: I’ll hold your hands, they’re cold as ice (I bet he’s got an idea in mind to warm them)
F:My mother will start to worry
M: Beautiful, what’s your hurry
F: My father will be pacing the floor (And he will most likely concuss you when you get home for dating a creeper)
M: Listen to the fireplace roar
F:So really I’d better scurry
M: Beautiful, please don’t hurry
F: Well maybe just one drink more (Hook. Line. Sinker.)
M: Put some records on while I pour

F: The neighbors might think
M: Baby, it’s bad out there
F: Say, what’s in this drink (Who knew roofies had such a pleasing after-dinner flavor?)
M: No cabs to be had out there
F: I wish I knew how
M: Your eyes are like starlight now
F: To break this spell
M: I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell (Think you can help me put this couch in my van?)
F: I ought to say no, no, no, sir
M: Mind if I move a little closer
F: At least I’m gonna say that I tried
M: What’s the sense in hurting my pride (Nice. Way to work in the guilt trip.)
F:I really can’t stay
M: Baby don’t hold out
Baby it’s cold outside

F: I simply must go
M: Baby, it’s cold outside
F: The answer is no
M: Ooh baby, it’s cold outside
F: This welcome has been
M: I’m lucky that you dropped in
F: So nice and warm
M: Look out the window at that storm
F: My sister will be suspicious (That’s because your sister used to date him too. That’s revealed in next week’s episode.)
M: Gosh, your lips look so delicious (mmmmm nom nom nom…)
F: My brother will be there at the door
M: Waves upon a tropical shore
F: My maiden aunt’s mind is vicious
M: Gosh your lips are delicious (And we’ve slipped into an episode of Twilight)
F: Well maybe just a half a drink more
M: Never such a blizzard before

F: I’ve got to go home
M: Oh, baby, you’ll freeze out there
F: Say, lend me your coat
M: It’s up to your knees out there
F: You’ve really been grand
M: Your eyes are like starlight now
F: But don’t you see
M: How can you do this thing to me
F: There’s bound to be talk tomorrow
M: Making my life long sorrow
F: At least there will be plenty implied
M: If you caught pneumonia and died (Here we go with the guilt-trip thing again. By this juncture of the song, I’d think she’d choose pneumonia over you, Hombre)
F: I really can’t stay
M: Get over that old out
Baby it’s cold outside

~~~~

I bet you’ll think differently about this song the next time you hear it in the grocery store. Maybe that egg nog the nice young man is giving out samples of has a little something extra in it…

Dateline: February 17th, 2011 Charlotte, NC*

Timothy Richard Tebow, commonly referred to as “Dick-Bow,” was arrested early this morning at Ri-Ra Irish Pub on N. Tryon St. in downtown Charlotte. Police were called to the scene after another patron heard a “tapping” sound followed by a “snorting” sound in an adjacent stall in the pub’s restroom. The patron notified the management, and when management went to investigate, Tebow was found in the stall attempting to kick the urinal off the wall.

When asked to comment, the manager, Elias MacDougal, responded, “Never in all my years have I seen a urinal inspire so much rage in an individual.”

After a brief struggle with police, Tebow was detained and taken to the city jail. A trace amount of cocaine was found on his person, but based on evidence found at the scene and his unusual behavior, he is suspected to have ingested most of it. A drug test was administered at the police station. Results are pending.

This incident is just the latest in a series of increasingly questionable events in Tebow’s life since he was drafted in the fifth round of the 2010 NFL draft by the Carolina Panthers. The strangest being the incident in Las Vegas last November where a “Woman of the night” was found dead in Tebow’s room. It was ruled an accidental death, but questions still abound. Most notably, how a stripper managed to impale herself on a bust of Wayne Newton in the room at the MGM Grand Hotel. Rooms at the MGM Grand don’t normally come equipped with busts of Wayne Newton, so it’s mere presence at the scene is still a mystery to law enforcement officers.

File Photo

Dick-Bow, once the golden child of the college football ranks, has seen his star fall considerably since that fateful loss against Alabama in the SEC championship on December 5th, 2009. Tebow could be seen sitting in tears on the sideline near the end of the game, and surely at that time he believed it would be the low point of his life. How wrong he was.

Tebow’s life has spiraled out of control from that moment forward. His team suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of Cincinnati. A game in which his throwing arm was broken trying to dive across the goal line for a score. To add insult to injury, he fumbled the ball on the play and it was returned for a touchdown.

His NFL prospects were already questionable, but they were further degraded by the injury, which spread doubt about his arm strength and ability to recover. The Carolina Panthers pretty much drafted him to get the sympathy vote. His athletic ability and leadership qualities should have translated into something a bit more tangible than the league minimum salary, but it turns out the jump pass isn’t effective in the NFL and middle linebackers will eat a QB turned TE for dinner.

Perhaps there’s still time to salvage an NFL career, but at this juncture it might be more prudent to concentrate on getting his life out of the ditch.

When asked for comment, his agent and spiritual adviser Hezekiah Slaughter, had this to say: “I think it’s a bit premature to try him in the court of public opinion, but look at Michael Irvin. He did a ton of blow and still had a great NFL career.”

No words, ladies and gentleman. No words.

*Just in case the date set in the future didn’t indicate this, this story is NOT TRUE. Don’t sue me.
UPDATE:  I just discovered This t-shirt, which may be the greatest t-shirt ever made. It can be had at Redlabelsports.com for the low low price of $13. I bought 67 and I don’t even like Alabama.

Tebow Cries