This post fills me with shame and self-loathing. I am sick that I am posting this, but you see, your honor, I had no choice. I never did. It’s a compulsion. It’s sick and twisted, but I just can’t help myself.
What is so particularly odious about the year 1973? It seems that the songs I heard issuing forth from one transistor radio or a portable record player/radio gizmo I got for Christmas were particularly cruel and unusual. It was all out assault of bubblegum music on our tender, grade school ears. If the record was on the charts, AM Top 40 radio stations tried to wear them out with heavy play rotations. Sometimes it seemed like acts of sadism like the song above. I wonder if the deejays were masochists.
Truth be told, I am not brave enough to play the whole video all the way through. I don’t want that thing ricocheting around my bean.
Yes, I’m sure that there are people out there that claim they like this song (somebody had to post the video above to YouTube) but I’m pretty sure that if I were to drive with that person cross country, one or the other of us would end up in a shallow grave off of the interstate.
Yes, your honor, I beat him to death with a Precious Moments® figurine. It was all I had handy to use as a weapon and I had to make the sing-a-long STOP! Please, have mercy!
