I sat down today to write about how I am always tricked by the intro to songs by the band Chicago. What I mean is that a song by Chicago will come on the radio and I will think “Oh this must be that one song by Chicago that I like” but then after the intro it will start sucking and I reach for the dial. At least that’s what I thought, until tonight.
I’ve been combing through Youtube clips trying to find songs to support this important theory but I keep finding songs that are good all the way through. I thought I nailed it with “Feeling Stronger Everyday” but realized I kind of like the whole song.
This might not seem important to you, but it has really shaken me to my core. I have spent the last few decades HATING the band Chicago and now, in the blink of an eye, I like them. Imagine if you were molested by your uncle and then 20 years later you suddenly thought, “You know what, that was fun.” That’s how I feel right now.
Now let’s not get crazy though, I’m only talking about 70s Chicago. 80s Chicago is horrendous. In fact, shove this piece of shit in your head holes. Take special note of two things while watching this. First notice the douche in the beginning of the clip who is way overly excited when he realizes what song they are starting to play. He turns to his big-breasted date and yells “YEAH” with enthusiasm that most men save for touchdowns and killer putts. Not to mention the fact that he’s wearing some bullshit, tucked-in, corporate logo shirt AND a giant class ring. Shit, I should have just written the whole post about this turd. The second thing to look for is the woman in the audience at the 0:37 mark who hears what song it is and promptly decides to get the fuck out of Dodge. I like that the song inspires her to go take a dump while over in the 4th row that other guy is crying tears of joy all over his girlfriend’s cleavage and single red rose.
Oh my God, this clip is PAINFUL! Are any original band members even in this clip?
What the hell was this post even about? I need more beers.
Look at me! Look at me! I am desperate to be noticed! MY ONLY GOAL IN LIFE IS TO BE ON THE NEWS! I’m swimming in the winter, can you believe how crazy I am? Love me. WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME DADDY?!?
These are the same kind of attention hogs that ride around on tall bikes, propose marriage in wacky ways and get married in some bullshit underwater wedding. You may think I am simply against fun. You are an idiot. I like fun, but swimming in a frozen lake in the middle of winter and having your cock and balls retreat into your body, never to be seen again, is literally the exact opposite of fun.
Guess what? POLAR BEARS don’t even want to swim around in some godforsaken frozen ocean for 6 hours looking for some dumb fish to eat. It is a well documented fact that the suicide rate among polar bears is the second highest in the animal kingdom. Obviously the number one slot goes to Guy Fieri’s tapeworms.
I guess we are supposed to find it charming that they spent $150,000 on this shit hole but it has the opposite effect on me. I want them to die. I don’t find anything cute about people who use their kitchen cabinets to store their clothes. I hate their 3′ wide bathroom and I feel sorry for their cats. Not because they also have to live in such a tiny space, rather I feel bad that the cats have nowhere to hide while these creepy douchebags have creepy douchebag sex in their creepy serial killer apartment.
I think this story is supposed to make me think Manhattan is wacky and unique, but it just makes me think Manhattan is absurd.
What could possibly go wrong? You’re jumping off a roof with wheels on your feet. I only pray that this sterilized him.
I masturbated to this.
What’s with these assholes and roofs? Best case scenario is two broken ankles. It’s as if someone has been videotaping my wet dreams.
I filled the bath with hot soapy water, lit the room with 25 candles, poured myself a glass of white Zinfandel and watched this on a continuous loop for 45 minutes.
Boy are you about to be cheated! I bought a new iMac that’s the size of a drive-in movie screen and I have been setting it up all night. I just realized I forgot to write something for you and now your day is most likely ruined. I am truly sorry. I owe you one.
In other news… Dana Carvey sucks huge amounts of ass and has been funny approximately 2 times. I can’t tell you when those 2 times occurred, but I am assuming they must have happened.
You know how I know your band sucks? Because you took your band photo on the railroad tracks.
Sure, you tried staring right at the camera with that “What, I don’t fucking care about this stupid photo” look. When that failed you looked away from the camera and off into the distance with that “What, I don’t fucking care about this stupid photo” look, but that made you look like you cared even more. Damn it!
My advice for your band photo? Take a photo of your shit band selling your shit equipment to a pawn shop, then photograph yourself applying for a job at Circuit City. Then a few photos of you realizing Circuit City has been out of business for a year and you just applied for a job at a vacant building. You idiot.
The mission of the Klingon Language Institute, is to “bring together individuals interested in the study of Klingon linguistics and culture, and provide a forum for discussion and the exchange of ideas.” If you translate that into normal human language, their mission is to “never bring a vagina anywhere near their penises.”
When I think about how little extra time I have in my life to do worthwhile things, and then imagine these buttholes sitting around on a Saturday night with a 2-liter of Mountain Dew and a Klingon dictionary, it makes me want to… what’s the word… makes me want to tlhaw’ these nerds right in the DIrons!
Yeah that’s right, while strolling through the mall I have not only stepped inside this douche hole, I have PURCHASED a T-shirt there! In fact, I have purchased 3 shirts from Hot Topic and the shame makes me want to set myself on fire.
Occasionally while stopped at red lights in the city I see older “dad” looking guys walking into what is clearly a handjob massage parlor and it is obvious how desperately they don’t want to be seen by anyone, even strangers. They walk quickly, keep their heads down and try to hide behind the collar of their golf jackets. They are willing to suffer through this awkward walk because they want that happy ending! This is exactly how I feel as I quickly duck into the mall’s most shameful teen asshole store. I try to make it look like I accidentally tripped and fell into the store or the wind pushed me in. I’m sorry but I want that God damn Judas Priest shirt, I want my happy ending!
It’s not my fault they have a handful of kickass shirts sprinkled among the other bullshit shitty shit they sell. The problem though is that when I wear one of my Hot Topic purchases I live in fear that someone will know where I got it. I remember seeing a guy wearing the same Johnny Cash T-shirt I purchased at the Topic and I thought “That guy is a dork, he shops at Hot Topic. Oh wait, so do I.” Must be the same when a guy walking into the massage parlor passes a customer on his way out. A simple nod is exchanged that says, “We failed.”