Words By Contraâ„¢

Once upon a time, I was talking to TC and I was trying to make him vomit by telling him about the tree-man. This must have angered him as he mustered an even more disgusting reply.

This video.

Now, initially, I didn’t watch it as I was throwing down the last morsels of day-old-Olive-Garden delicacies…so I clicked and let it play in the background…

In no less than three seconds, my dinner shot out of my stomach back onto my plate; the song was so ineffably bad.

After a series of convulsive fits of absolute repulsion I went into a state of delirium and decided to watch the video thinking “Surely, surely, it could not outdo the song in wackness. It can’t be worse,” I stammered.

My spark of delusional optimism was doused by an ocean of absolute horrendous…and more puke.

This abomination of a song is proof irrefutable that this man’s IQ barely broke the two digit mark, but the video….sigh…there are some major things intrinsically wrong with the video.

* To start with there was that random dude that kept popping up to do the “Yep” and “Nope” ad-libs …smh @ that nigga.

* Anyway, right at the same time the Asian chick with the faux-booty who wears heels at 9am to go check her mail in the suburbs of Houston…yeah, she bothered me quite a bit. Her whole presence left a fleet of question marks hovering above my head. ‘Wasn’t she just on the phone? What is she looking back at? Why can’t she smile? Is there something wrong with her jaw? Does she need help with the mail? Why is it taking so long? Why does she look so confused as she fakes that kiss? Why is she wearing such a big chain? Is that dancing? Hold up…where did those Indians come from?’

* Of course, that dance… # Lord forbid that I should ever find anyone over 12 years of age executing it. I will catch a case in the most newsworthy of fashions. It’s not a dance, ok. It’s like a mixture of bad belly dancing, epilepsy and self-molestation. Rubbing your own head while jerking…There is nothing appealing about it. I insist that it is the standard sign language for “Yes, the chimp is smarter, now scratch my scalp.” It doesn’t help that no two people in the video are doing the same dance and the group shots ultimately end up looking like a mosh-pit of black folks on ex.

* Speaking of ex, that poor child. You know the one; the naked one with the chains who was clearly on hallucinogens. Even he looks like he’s thinking “This shit is fucking retarded. They better cut me a damn check.” He also makes a random cameo earlier in the video for no apparent reason…still naked…with the video girls…next to the cars…right before…

* OH MY GOD, is that Doug E. Fresh? All this time, I was defensively insulted by the “My Doug E….I’m Fresh.” repetition but now this?

This is the real reason I threw up. Because I had just opened the morgue drawer and was staring at a deceased, disgusting, disgracefully rotting cadaver of a culture I once loved. Ashamed, saddened, insulted, betrayed….

Excuse me whilst I go empty my stomach again….