Are you a bad girl? Mmmmm. Tell me that you’re a bad girl. Tell me that you like to get naughty.
You’re such a bad girl.
Oooh, baby. Well, maybe you’re not such a bad girl. You’re more of an antihero to be honest. Oooh, yeah. Because you fit all the tropes of being an antihero. Ooooh, yeah. Tell me that you’re an antihero. Whisper in my ear that you might do awful things, but it’s for a good cause.
Look, I just need some hits here, people. I have bills to pay, so I figured that I’d write something about Ebola. Not any specific thing about Ebola. Just something declaring something about Ebola. That ought to bring in a little bit of ad revenue.
Hey. Ebola could be in your cat. Maybe. No one really knows. It’s in your cat and soon, it’s going to be in you because it might be airborne. Or evolve into something that’s airborne. Please click on my other articles. Please, for god’s sake.
Who’s tryin’ to fight? You look liked you’d like to fight later. How about we get drunk and fight? That way, if people ask us why we’re fighting, it’s because we’re drunk, but we won’t tell them it’s really because we want to fight.
So, if you see anybody that wants to fight, point them in my direction. Say “Hey. You look like you’re trying to fight. Go over there and test your luck.” And then we’ll fight. Just two guys workin’ through issues they had with distant fathers. Just fightin’ it out.
In response to the fear-mongering and sensationalism brought on by a bunch of news outlets running headlines like “EBOLA COULD BE IN YOUR MOM!”, the nation’s wittiest pun crafters have rushed to internet comment sections in a race to create the best play on Barack Obama’s name. One would think that these were written by sixth graders being homeschooled by their illiterate fathers, but, alas, these were all penned by grown, functioning people. Political stances aside, if you’d like to prove a point, the worst way to start is by creating stuff like this and hoping that everyone who isn’t doing exactly what you’re doing right now will take you seriously.
There’s no way to make this work phonetically. If you decide to make the “Obam-” prefix recognizable, the best you’ll get is an Arnold Schwarzeneggar pronunciation: “Obam-ahs-hole.” If you want to put the emphasis on the “asshole,” you get “oh-bam-asshole,” which makes it sound like your yelling it over your shoulder at someone who just bumped into you. It’s a no-win situation.
How many seconds did it take to come up with “Obola?” One? Two, maybe? Words and stuff are hard, but “Obola” goes to show us that the days of quick wit are not over. In fact, they’ve only just begun.
Odummer and Moocow
Taking precious time that you could’ve spent trying to convince other people that Obama is opening the borders in order to allow a wave of diseased immigrants into the country and using it to call the First Lady “Moocow” makes this guy a martyr of a cause that I’ll never fully understand. Was there a press release documenting Michelle Obama’s secret rendezvous with the scientists that remove her human skin to allow the hidden farm animal underneath some breathing room that I don’t know about? That’s the only way that this insult would hit its mark.
Calling Michelle “Moocow” means two things. The first is that you hate women to a degree that you’re willing to call them anything if it means cursing your own impotency. The second is that you’ve obviously never seen Michelle Obama, or Michelle Obama in a sleeveless shirt. There would be logical clarity to this pun if Michelle Obama was just a jar of mayonnaise and pig’s feet personified. If that was the case, we could reply with “Oh, because she’s overweight. I get it. Also, you’re still an idiot.” But Michelle Obama looks like the kind of person who shouts “Focus! Two more! You may dream of donuts, but your NIGHTMARE IS ME.” while you’re doing bicep curls. The hot kind of person.
Jason Derulo’s music over the past year has taken us through the gamut of what it’s like to be in love, from the initial, platonic flirting, to the fun trips with women who can’t speak English, to the world’s supply of butts. His output is the When Harry Met Sally of our generation, and he paints a picture of romance that is jaggedly intimate. It will stab a pike through your heart and hoist you screaming through the streets.
In a time when we’re so focused on ourselves and our ambitions, Jason Derulo’s music can help us, if only for four minutes, remember what it’s like to be in love. This is no more evident than with his latest single “Trumpets,” which is so in love that, at times, I can’t even comprehend it.
Love Doesn’t Have To Be Fun
Jason Derulo frames himself as an extremely intense man. I assumed that, when a girlfriend is taking a shower or changing into a different pair of pants, that I could relax a bit and not be writing songs in my head about all the wonderful things going on with her flesh, but Jason has proven me wrong. Every time that a girl gets undressed, Jason’s head goes into Mozart mode. It’s like an orchestra made entirely out of boners in his skull.
That’s a painful amount of devotion that I didn’t know was required of me before. He says that he “wrote this song just looking at you,” and, considering the complexity of the lyrics, it’s logical that he composed it while focused on something else entirely, but it also means that Jason’s girlfriend can’t go to the bathroom without Jason trying to figure out where the percussion section plays into the whole thing. Love isn’t relaxed or calm. It’s Jason Derulo needing his girlfriend to find a different outfit or he won’t be able to properly do his job. If she stays in sweatpants for a few days, they’ll starve.
I’m different from all of those long-term relationships in the past with all of those guys who meant well. I’m with you now, so that obviously means that I’m different from all of them. Obviously.
I’d never treat you the way that those assholes did. God, when I think about Tyler, your high school boyfriend, who you had to break up with due to long distance, it just makes me so angry. I’ll never approach you the way that Tyler did. I just want to let you know that you’re perfect, and that what we’ve created over the last 5 weeks is special.