From the decks of hell #1: (You’re) Having My Baby

This blog needs a shot in the arm, so I’m announcing a new topic: songs for a Freaky Friday.

You know the ones. The bad. The really bad. Not even the so-bad-it’s-good kind (although I’m also convinced that so-bad-it’s-good doesn’t work as a musical concept – there are no guilty pleasures, simply good music and bad music, or music you enjoy and music you don’t). No, we’re talking about the criminally insane. The Ian Bradys of the top 40. The sort of stuff that would lead you to sell your own grandmother if it meant you never had to hear it again. We’re talking ‘Christmas Shoes’ territory. The worst of the worst; the stuff that makes your jaw drop because you can’t believe that anyone could produce something so hideously wretched in a recording studio, or purposely choose to inflict it upon an unsuspecting world.

I will include lyrics.

Today’s entry: ‘(You’re) Having My Baby’, in which Paul Anka has a sex change halfway through the song, admires his partner’s hot flushes and “what it’s doin’ to you” (insomnia, fatigue, hormonal tantrums and vomiting), and then makes a not-terribly-subtle reference to abortion. Listen, and shudder.

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—

You’re having my baby
What a lovely way of saying
How much you love me.
You’re having my baby
What a lovely way of saying
What you’re thinking of me.
I can see it your face is glowingI can see it in your eyes.
I’m happy knowin’ that you’re having my baby.
You’re the woman I love and I love what it’s doin’ to you.
Having my baby
You’re a woman in love and I love
What’s goin’ through you.
The need inside you
I see it showin’
Oh
The seed inside you
Baby
Do you feel it growin’
Are you happy in knowin’ that you’re having my baby?

I’m a woman in love and I love
What it’s doin’ to me.
Having my baby.
I’m a woman in love and I love
What’s goin’ through me.

Didn’t have to keep it
Wouldn’t put you through it.
You could have swept it from your life
But you wouldn’t do it
No
You wouldn’t do it.
And you’re having my baby…

Poem of the year

My father sent me this, but did so knowing it was Glurge and with a view to my publishing it here. Which is great, because it is a bit of a winner.

 

The computer swallowed Grandma,
Yes, honestly it’s true!
She pressed ‘control and ‘enter’
And disappeared from view.
It devoured her completely,
The thought just makes me squirm.
She must have caught a virus
Or been eaten by a worm.
I’ve searched through the recycle bin
And files of every kind;
I’ve even used the Internet,
But nothing did I find.
In desperation, I asked Mr. Google
My searches to refine.
The reply from him was negative,
Not a thing was found ‘online.’
So, if inside your ‘Inbox,’
My Grandma you should see,
Please ‘Copy, Scan’ and ‘Paste’ her,
And send her back to me.
This is a tribute to all the Grandmas & Grandpas

who have been fearless and learned to use the Computer………

They are the greatest!!!

We do not stop playing because we grow old;
We grow old because we stop playing ..

NEVER Be The First To Get Old!

Insecure post-it

[takes hand] Everything will be all right. (And note spelling.)