Most people at my job use an iPod or an mp3 player to help ward off the boredom, the deep, deep boredom. The company not only allows this, but encourages it. Many of the duties, especially on the production floor, are repetitive, and iPods help ease the pain.
I, of course, have my Nano all charged-up and loaded every day. I listen to music sometimes, but it’s mostly talk stuff. Like old time radio programs (Suspense, Gunsmoke, Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar), Phil Hendrie, Clive Bull, vintage Jean Shepherd, audiobooks (Seth Godin, mostly)…
I love music, of course, but it doesn’t really do it for me at work. I don’t know why.
When I first started working there a manager was trying to reach me on a walkie-talkie. I’d stepped away from my desk for a couple of minutes, and forgot to take the squawk box with me. I guess he was hollering my name into it repeatedly, and getting no answer.
Frustrated, he stormed over to my desk, and found me sitting there with my iPod plugged into my skull. And he flew off the handle, believing I hadn’t heard him because I was blasting Pantera or somesuch. He “asked” me not to listen to music anymore.
My heart sank. I love those old programs. As pathetic as it might seem, they’re often the highlight of my day. So, I told him I’d been in the shitter when he paged me (pisser, to be more precise), and my iPod wasn’t going anywhere.
This led to one of those awkward moments when both parties stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. He finally broke, and said, “Answer me when I call!” and stormed away.
So, my iPod is VERY important to me. I resisted them for many years, but now own two, and cling to both like a life preserver. Especially the Nano I take to work. Sweet sainted mother of Bobby Buntrock!
Fast forward to a couple weeks ago… A woman who sits in a cubicle near my desk has broken protocol, and started bringing a freaking boombox to work with her. Everybody else is using mp3 players, and she’s playing stuff out in the open air.
Grrr…
It starts with the volume turned down, and not overly obnoxious. But it gets louder as the night drags on. I think she gooses it a bit, every hour or so. And I’m not joking, she has a CD that MUST be called “The Worst Songs of the Modern Era.” I haven’t seen the jewel box, but know the title anyway.
This thing features (I kid you not) “We Built This City,” by Starship, which is possibly the shittiest song in the history of our planet…
I worked at a grocery store in Greensboro (right after I left this joint) when that crap was inexplicably popular, and played over the loudspeaker roughly twenty times per shift. My entire body would go rigid whenever it came on again, and my sphincter would turn to stone. Nothing has changed during the ensuing twenty years…
Her collection of horrible music also includes an old Mr. Mister tune (something to do with wings), an anal acorn by Billy Joel called “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” and at least two songs by (are you ready?) Toto.
It’s almost unbelievable. It’s as if Satan made a mix-tape.
And it only gets worse, the longer it plays… Eventually that Whitney Houston song comes on. You know, the one Dolly Parton wrote, and sounds like a fire alarm going off? Every time it comes around again, I almost instinctively drop to the floor and start crawling toward the light.
After the wailing finally ends, “Believe” by Cher starts playing, and I actually get nostalgic for Mr. Mister. That’s the one where they run her voice through some kind of distortion program, and it sounds like the PA system at Home Depot. The annoying melody repeats in my head until I seriously contemplate catching the first flight to southern California, locating a forest fire, and walking straight into the flames.
I’ve “asked” the woman to turn down the volume on her Box of Terrible several times, and she always complies. But why should I have to do it every night? Every freaking night?
Anyway. I said I wasn’t going to write again until Monday, but didn’t want to leave an update about unspeakable tragedy flapping in the breeze (although you guys provided some amazing stories!).
So, let’s talk about something a little more enjoyable: bad music that was popular. What tunes should be included on Volume 2 of “The Worst Songs of the Modern Era?” Use the comments link below.
And I’ll see you folks on Monday afternoon, or maybe Tuesday.
Have a great weekend!
“Daybreak” by Barry Man-I-Blow
The worst of the worst are bold
I’m Too Sexy – Right Said Fred
I’d Do Anything For Love – Meat Loaf
Rico Suave – Whatever his fucking name is
Macarena
Rock Me Amadeus – Falco
Kokomo – Beach Boys (anything by the Beach Boys, I hate their whispery voices).
My Sharona – Whatever the fuck their name is.
From a Distance – Bette Midler
Ice Ice Baby – Vanilla Ice
Achy Breaky Heart – Billy Ray Cyrus
EVERYONE IN BOLD CAN DRINK BLEACH!
“Our House” makes me wish for a bulldozer.
Or a sniper rifle…
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our …
Damn you all. I have half these crap songs on random play in my head jukebox now, thank you very much.
’99 Luftbaloons’ makes me want to fly to Germany and beat Nena to death with a large fragment of the wall.
I was in a country band for a VERY short time
(hey I needed the money) just about the time Achy Breaky Heart was a hit. Requested dozens of times a night. I cried myself to sleep for weeks. Coulda been the Yukon Jack tho…maybe not. Country music of ANY kind is a sure fire way to get me to give up nuclear secrets. You know…if I knew any.
Besides…Country music is like a Dean Koontz novel. There’s a chick, a kid and a dog in there somewhere.
My husband is volunteering anything done by Chicago during the Peter Cetera years.
I have to go against Jim Britton here. I like “Our House” by Madness. Not that I’d go out of my way to buy the mp3 or anything, but I can’t put it up there with people like Air Supply and Billy Ray Cyrus.
The worst song on Earth is “Happy Birthday to You” because I always feel like an ass when everyone sings it to me. What the fuck are you supposed to do during the birthday song? Everyone is staring at you and you just have to sit there and stare at your candles. Absurd.
who let the dogs out…who’s with me??
I’m with you. Fuck the dogs. They let themselves out.
Huey Lewis. End of list.
How come no one’s put in the Bee Gee’s yet? Stayin’ alive nearly made me want to kill my family. Oh, and that shit Grease song. The one with the skanky Olivia Newton John. Christ on a bike! Where’s my chainsaw……
The best song ever written or sung:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sj0o0QO2riY
Tell (not ask) the woman to use headphones (or keep it turned way down)… As a consideration to all the other multi-genre music listeners around her using their own headsets keeping their musical tastes to themselves.
We’re more radical in our shop, if you don’t comply with keeping your audio choices to your own ears, it will be turned down by who ever happens to get annoyed. No asking, no more telling. A few days of turning somebodys noise box down usually gets the message across. Wire cutters are the next step.
Having worked in a cacaphony of genres at a previous shop competing for attention, I am pleased with the no tolerance to excess volume levels at the current shop.
malcolm,
i agree. billy joel’s greatest hits cd 1 is pretty great (goodnight saigon) but then i believe track one on cd 2 is tell her about it. really? fuck me with christie brinkley’s dick.
Okay fuckfaces. I’ve been making you laugh or recoil in horror for a while now. I need your help!
Hangover remedies! I need all you got. I’ve a lot to do tomorrow and I’m presently drunk. And the hangovers have been hitting me hard lately. So do you know any way to make the hangover less so, or avoid it all together? Rub toothpaste on my balls? I’ll do it. Whatever you got, PLEASE HELP!
Jason – Step 1. drink a lot of water, like a liter, before going to sleep. Throw in a couple…or 4…Tylenol. Step 2. Take a twinkie, dip your finger in the creamy center and rub a dab under your nose (this will help the headache) and a dab under each eye (this will help the bloodshot eyes). Step 3. Rub a pat of butter on each nipple (this will help with any indigestion from the alcohol)
Good Luck!
What an intriguing question! It’s funny how some of the most cutting edge tunes of my youth in the 80s just seem like kid’s stuff today.
Music is music. One person’s crap is another person’s gold. Sure, we can sit here and make disparaging remarks about the new pop stuff…but just because the bands that we like aren’t popular, doesn’t necessarily make the masses who like pop music wrong.
RNK,
Thank you. You’re a self proclaimed newby, and you’re here to help. The twinky thing sounds absurd. So I’ll try it. Whipped lard (sweetened) on my nipples helps with my panic atticks? Whatever you say, sister.
No, really, I appreciate you. Thanks for chiming in. You’re witty.
In no particular order:
Connon Eye Joe: Rednix (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDdlHmzIdn8)
Mambo Number 5: Lou Bega (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfvJOL1gpic)
Barbie Girl: Aqua (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxn567bHny8&feature=related)
Blue: Efiel 65 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H25lz7gchaw)
Lucas With the Lid Off: Lucas (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B5HOsnq_2j4)
I Can’t Go For That: Hall and Oats (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwarCieO1dc)
If I Could Turn Back Time: Cher (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OR0U87mRsY)
Achy Breaky Heart: Billy Ray Virus (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EebObs-vC0&feature=fvst)
The Groove is in the Heart: Deee Lite (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zmZ08V4GFQg). Side note: I kinda feel bad about this one only because Bootsy Collins was involved, and I have enormous respect for Bootsy, but it just soooo terrible.
Every Time You Go Away: Paul Young (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2M9HrFCVlWg)
Never Gonna Give You Up: Rick Astley (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu_moia-oVI)
R E O Speedwagon ~ Ridin the Storm Out
I hate anything by Chicago.
But loved the comments – so many ‘fucks’….this topic brought out the Friday Rage!!
Karma Chameleon – easily the worst song ever, and it sticks in your head as if by velcro. Anything Elton John did after 1976.
Ah, I remember one more. Safety Dance. Will somebody please shoot that daffy chick that keeps dancing in and out of the video? Please, she is making me sick.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HcOZ6xFxJqg
Jason:
Lots of vitamin B, like in those energy drinks or pill form.
Also alcohol depletes amino acids, look in your medicine cabinet for:
Isoleucine Alanine
Leucine Asparagine
Lysine Aspartate
Methionine Cysteine*
Phenylalanine Glutamate
Threonine Glutamine*
Tryptophan Glycine*
Valine Proline*
Serine*
Tyrosine*
Arginine*
Histidine*
Of course all this helps more if you have the mind to take them before you go to bed.
>What do you think life was like in that so-called sanitarium? What was a normal day there?
Just read this question from the previous update. TB sanitariums (sanitaria?) were in vogue in the late 19th~early twentieth centuries, and, apart from a few low-rent establishments for the indigent, were more like resorts than hospitals. Aside from patients with galloping (fast-progressing) consumption, patients experienced few grave symptoms–a mild fever and weakness at most. The “treatment” was moderate, with daily temperature taking and an occasional X-ray. For the most part, patients occupied their time with bridge, rich food, parties, walks in the forest, and relaxing sessions under the sun bundled in blankets. Friendships, rivalries and love affairs were rife.For many, the creature comforts were sufficient to make going home a burden–and some stayed way past their welcome.
You can find info and pictures of old TB sanitoriums on the internet. Also, Thomas Mann’s “Magic Mountain” is a (1000-page) tome written specifically on this topic, and has all the dirt on what goes on among the TB patients. It’s well worth a look-see if you’re interested in this topic.
According to Mann, a “normal day” began with a ritual temperature taking, then proceeded to a rich breakfast and lunch, a sunning session, a lavish dinner, and bridge games and drinking till the wee hours. He was describing a fictitious upper-class establishment in Switzerland, but middle-class sanitariums also gave patients a relatively comfortable lifestyle.
Hey everyone, Amazon is giving away a free mp3 this weekend!! So now we can all secretly download those songs our fellow surfers think suck:
http://tinyurl.com/n3wvjf
And if anyone cares, I downloaded “Back on the Chain Gang”. The Pretenders seem to be one of those bands most people like….well, maybe not the young’ins, but you know what I mean. 😉
Jason,
Alcohol dehydrates you and the dehydration causes the headache. Also, the metabolic by-products of alcohol are highly toxic.
Solution: Don’t drink.
Workable Solution: Drink a glass of water for every alcoholic drink and before bed have two more glasses of water. This will not prevent a hangover, but will decrease the severity.
Gretchen — Thanks for enabling one of my guilty pleasures. Should I be ashamed to admit I just downloaded a Taylor Swift song?
@Brynhildr: You’re welcome. I’d gladly tell you if you should be ashamed or not, but I don’t know who the frick Taylor Swift is.
That’s OK, Gretchen. I’ll just go pop in my Carpenters CD, raid the cookie jar and have a Coke. (I hear Diet Coke makes you fat so I’ve switched to the regular variety.)
Thanks for all the advice! I can’t remember who recommended sleeping with a banana pepper up my ass, but it really worked. I’ve never felt better.
@KYDave, re:
“@Limey. Old dairy cows really. I would imagine that McDonalds sells more pounds of hamburger in a month that the total on-hoof wieght of all the dairy cattle in America. I would imagine that McD’s hamburger is most likely made out of whatever cows they can get for the lowest price.”
You imagine wrong. McDoanld’s patties are mainly old dairy cows, which is what ~20% of the beef we eat is. The US consumes ~12M tons beef/year, that’s ~2.5M tons of old dairy cows. McDonald’s uses 1/2M tons of beef/year, i.e. one fifth of the old dairy cows available.
Just sitting around this evening enjoying The Worst Songs of the Modern Era. Oh, and eating old dairy cow meat. Yum. I know not everyone can relate, but I’m also enjoying a Mountaineer victory, however lame it was.
The REO Speedwagon song that goes: “Heard it from a friend who, heard it from a friend who, heard it from another you been messin’ arou-hound” is the dorkiest ever.
Reflex by Duran Duran- clunky song with horrible lyrics.
Beats the hell out of my night of playing games on facebook and being pissy about working tomorrow.
The Eagles and Steely Dan catalogues tie for worst songs ever.
Brynhildr – Bitte um Entschuldigung. Sie haben auf meinem Laptop ohne mein Wissen und ich entschuldige mich. Ich werde nicht in Details gehen hier nicht, aber es ist nicht wahr. Ich kann nur bitten um Ihr Vergebung. Ich möchte Haß zu verlieren ihre Freundschaft über dieses Missverständnis. Also ich überlasse diese in ihre Hände von hier.
The worst songs of the modern era list could go on and on. Cherry Pie – Warrant would be in my top five.
Shiney Rod’s last comment to Brynhildr just reminded me that I hated “Der Commisar” (or however that was spelled). Wasn’t that also by Falco, who did “Rock Me Amedeus”?
To JRP_IN_SC, Here’s my favorite quote about Warrant’s “Cherry Pie”:
“I hate that song. I had no intention of writing that song. The record was done. The record was called ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’. And Donny Inner [president of Columbia Records] called up and said, ‘I don’t hear the single. You gotta give me a f**king single like ‘Love in an Elevator’. I need something like that.’ So that night I wrote ‘Cherry Pie’. Sent it to him. He lived with it over the weekend. Then all of a sudden the album’s called ‘Cherry Pie’. The record’s called ‘Cherry Pie’. I’m doing cherry-pie-eating contests. The single’s ‘Cherry Pie’. Right? If I’m lying, I’m dying. And my legacy’s ‘Cherry Pie’. Everything about me is ‘Cherry Pie’. I’m the ‘Cherry Pie’ guy. I could shoot myself in the fucking head for writing that song.”
BTW, a friend went to see Warrant at a bar a couple of years back. Why, I’ll never know, but she did. Janie Lane started the show by gurgling out a few words before he puked into a towel onstage.
And, to whomever I cannot remember, that banana pepper up the ass for a hangover is hilarious!
Throw this one in the list too! Bananarama!!!
“Imagine” by John Lennon. Fuck him and his lofty ideals.
Walk Like An Egyptian.
We did shrooms and some skunk weed one night in Alaska. We really thought we could get into “You Light Up My Life”. Didn’i work…but eventually all three of us saw Debbie Boone naked. She had a moustache though, which was weird…so maybe it was just our road manager. We always called him Debbie after.
Give her headphones and a suggestion that if she wears them you won’t have to ask her to turn the shit down.
And if she keeps doing it, just keep giving her headphones. Pretend it’s groundhog day. Grind her down, one night at a time. Maybe enlist some other co-workers to also give her headphones.
If that doesn’t work, fill her speakers with Wheatina.
hmm, did I detect a “rick-roll” in there?
Even more fun than the songs on here, is to take several of the heavy hitters and play them at the same time. It’s a crap-tackular overdose!
You motherfuckers have diamonds on the soles of your shoes. I’m going to put a banana pepper up my ass and go to bed. Happy Labor Day!
Jason…Hang in there… it’s early…we’re going to need you later. Oh…the shelf at the market here has been wiped out of banana peppers by the tourists and so is most the liquor. You really might be on to something I’m not aware of. Just an observation.
(Cubic zirconia thank you very much)
Got-dammit. I’ll take one for the team, it being labor day and all. Banana peppers are the shit (no pun intended). I can now drink pain free. Thank you Jesus!
I just found out my hooker has the exact same birthday as me. She looks years younger than I do. Doesn’t seem right. Oh well, I’m going to put a pepper up her ass and I’ll check in with you guys later.
USA! USA! USA!
Jason, you are hilarious. Not quite as funny as TFM though..