Look At My Butt

There are currently two (2) hit songs I’ve been made aware of today that do nothing but celebrate the callipygian nature of the song’s protagonist.

And yet, Neil Young still tours.

You know, when Dana Carvey was doing his whole George Michael spoof back then, it was just that.

‘Twas a spoof.

I mean do NOT. Let Carole King. Hear “Anaconda.” She will break her hip kicking herself. THAT’S ALL I HAD TO DO? THAT? TALK ABOUT MY FAT ASS AND HOW GREAT IT IS? THAT’S IT? She’ll be at Gerry Goffin’s grave, all like Hey! Gerry! WE DIDN’T ACTUALLY HAVE TO USE ALL OF THAT POWERFUL, WELL-PLACED IMAGERY IN OUR SONGS! ASS, GERRY. THAT’S ALL THEY WANTED TO HEAR ABOUT. ASS.

What’s this new song on the radio? “All About That Bass?” NO! CAROLE! Change the STATION! QUICK!

That stuff will just ruin Carole King. Please. Keep her away from it.

In other music stuff: Here is an excellent piece regarding some of the finest music of my adolescence. A really great read. I Know Times Are Changing

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