(links to Rita Ballou article with song player embedded)
The very fact that the mp3 single Trailer sent me had "(Explicit)" after the title should have been enough for me to know that I shouldn't subject my holy ears to this. I am defiled.
Tequila breath is sexy. Guitar rhymes with bar. These are a couple of the helpful facts I learned by listening to Mr. Tool's song. Not only do I feel soiled by sin, I feel as though I have lost several IQ points over the course of three minutes and fifty-two seconds.
I won't even go back into the Bible verses I've quoted you people before about the sins of drunkenness. You should know by now.
Young girls showing off their lady parts? I'm not even going into the Lord's thoughts about promiscuity and lack of decorum. I'm just too beaten down by this song to even proselytize today. I just ask of you to use the Google or the index of your stolen-from-a-hotel Gideon's Bible to research about these things.
Whoa unto me. Gloom, despair and agony. Mr. Tool, you have desecrated my Wednesday and set loose this awful earworm upon my hearing.
This isn't a song. It's a crisis of faith.
F
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