Bad Music Thursday. Seriously Bad.
I feel bad about ripping this guy, because he passed away a couple years ago. I don't like picking on dead people. On the other hand, this guy has somehow escaped the curled lips of contempt or mocking laughter evoked by the mere mention of certain artists, like Air Supply or Barry Manilow. His songs are not not synonyms for cheese, like "The Piña Colada Song" or "Wildfire." But I assure you, his stink bombs of musical aggression are no less potent or ubiquitous.

I will mention his name, and (unless you are Sysm, who remembers all things music-related), you will scratch your head, quizzically turn your head to one side, squint your eyes and mutter, "Who?"

Paul Davis.


Paul Davis:


THIS Paul Davis:

Sorry, who?


Oh, THAT Paul Davis.

Yeah, him.

I don't know why sappy love songs bother me so much. Is it my musical sensibilities that are offended, or do I just have difficulty giving and receiving love?
Name: Übermilf
Location: Chicago Area

If being easily irritated, impatient and rebellious is sexy, then call me MILF -- Übermilf.

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Perverts, scram. There's nothing for you here.

Now, who wants cupcakes?

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