Five Songs to Slash Your Wrists to on Valentine’s Day
I’m not sure how depressed people actually get when single on Valentine’s Day. Most of those without significant others will acknowledge the fact that it’s a made up Hallmark holiday, but, unless television and movies have lied to me all these years (inconceivable!), a lot of people do get bummed out that they don’t have someone to spend a random day of the year with. With that in mind, I thought it’d be helpful to introduce the world to the five songs that most depress me when I miss having someone to regularly pump loads into (the male equivalent of love). Click the song titles to download them and put a few pennies in my pockets, you freeloaders.
Johnny Cash-“I Still Miss Someone“–It’s widely acknowledged that country music is the most depressing genre of music out there. Whether your wife died, dog died, mom died or brother died, some dumb hayseed with a twang in his voice has you covered. Johnny Cash is one of the few artists that seems to have transcended the uncoolness inherent to country music for a lot of people, so I wanted to include this masterpiece about a man that is hung up on the one that got away. Johnny’s trademark bass-baritone is guaranteed to erase any healing you may have done in the wake of a breakup and have you asking, “Who hurt you, Cash? Who hurt you?”
Kem-“I Can’t Stop Loving You“–Now that I’ve lost both of my black readers with a country song, it’s time to include this masterpiece by Kem (or, as I like to call him, Seal-without-the-scarring) in an effort to win them back. A painful meditation upon a failed marriage, the song excels at making you feel like an overly emotional pussy because you’re hurting as much as you are due to a six month relationship and Kem lost his wife, man. He lost his wife. This also seems like a great song to slow jam fuck your woman to if she ever does come back. But only if you leave your socks on. That’s the black dude way.
Mariah Carey-“We Belong Together“–If you asked me the first thought that pops in my head when you say the name “Mariah Carey,” it’s over-the-hill, cradle-robbing diva. The second? Tits so big that I want to suck on them while going “num num num num num” to myself. But the third? Brilliant songstress who recorded “We Belong Together,” a tune I vividly remember listening to in the car in the wake of a breakup and thinking to myself, “This song was written for me. Now, if only I could put it in my ex’s head and make her realize the mistake she’s made so we can live happily ever after. Num num num num num I miss those tits.”
Kelly Clarkson-“Behind These Hazel Eyes“–I know. Most of you are sold on “Since U Been Gone” as the masterpiece from that six month period where Kelly Clarkson mattered. My issues with that song are twofold–it’s about getting over someone, not blaming yourself for the failed relationship and stewing over your every mistake as I’m want to do, and there’s a song performed by Rainbow titled “Since You Been Gone” that rocks far harder. “Behind These Hazel Eyes” is a triumph because, instead of successfully moving on with ones life, it emos it up and stews in its own juices, trying to hurt an ex by letting them know they will miss out on the tears she’s crying in the wake of the breakup. Haha, pussy.
Hank Williams-Alone and Forsaken“–Hank Williams doesn’t get the credit he deserves for almost single-handedly inventing the sound of modern music. Before Hank Williams came along, I don’t know what the hell people listened to. Maybe 17 minutes piano-based hymnals about young men dying in the civil war or songs that slaves sung in the fields to fill the time in between thoughts of killing massa. Then Hank came along and it was all about a man, a guitar, and a song he wrote that was under three minutes long. “Alone and Forsaken” is every inch as depressing as it sounds. Hank accuses not only his woman but God himself of leaving him in between verses that display the insights of a man realizing she’s departed only to find a new guy to screw over. If your idea of Valentine’s Day involves drinking rye until nodding off in the warm blanket that is a puddle of your own urine, let this song be your soundtrack.