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13. "All My Lovin" by The Beatles

While this song does not suck (no Beatle song outright sucks except "Revolution 9 #," and I blame Yoko and bad acid for that one), it is one of the most played-out, over-covered, and safest of Beatle tunes. It also ruined the rhyme "Kiss You" and "Miss You" for all time. Again, would it fucking kill you to play "Strawberry Fields" or "Happiness is a Warm Gun"?

FYI: Even at this early stage of their careers, The Beatles were messing with our heads. If you play "All My Lovin" backwards at 78 speed while tripping on mescaline, it says, "Bloody hell, the budgie's gone and scarfed up me shepherd's pie," "Pete Best was a wanker," and the cryptic claim, "I buggered Paul." Check it out.

14. "Joy to the World" by Three Dog Night

If all members of The Temptations weren't dead already, the countless tortured renditions their work has endured over the years would kill them. This song wins the title "King of Suck." Pure dung, and by dung, I mean the dark green stuff that emanates from the south end of a northbound mule. Dopey lyrics concerning wine-swilling bullfrogs and straight-shooting son of a guns make this wedding reception perennial an invitation to lose your breakfast, lunch and dinner. I'd like to send this groaner to the bottom of the "Deep Blue Sea" where all the "Fishes" dwell.

TDN does have a couple of decent songs in their quiver, but you insist on playing their worst, kitschiest effort again and again. For God's sake tell me why? There can't possibly be anyone out there clamoring for you to do this awful thing. I'm begging you, never spin this song again or I swear I will put you on a mailing list that sells your name to other mailing lists. Your mailbox will soon be stuffed with unwanted catalogues from Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware! Tremble in fear you sniveling poltroons.

Three Dog Night - Joy to the World band photo

Instant trivia: The surviving members of Three Dog Night reunited in 2008, but unfortunately, only the tambourine guy and a backup drummer were left, prompting them to change the name to Two Dog Night. They're available for weddings, barmitzvahs and children's birthday parties at a nominal fee, which for them is lunch from Chipotle and two cases of Amstel Lite. Give ‘em a call.

15. "Keep Me Hanging On" by The Supremes

Would somebody please set me free from the entire Supremes catologue? Every last song has been driven into the ground so far it's a wonder they haven't struck oil by now. Their songs have been flogged and flayed beyond the point of all endurance, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Interesting footnote: Diana Ross was originally named Dan Ross, a man, who underwent a sex change in order to audition for The Supremes in 1964. He/she got the gig and the rest is history, or in this case, her-story.

In addition: Diana's severed 23-inch panhandle is rumored to be stored in the sub-basement of the Smithsonian Institute in a jar of formaldehyde, right next to the alternate constitution and Millard Fillmore's collection of erotic scrimshaw. She reportedly decided to hang on to the balls.

16. "My Girl" by The Temptations

A song that has achieved level five hackneyed suck status not only through chronic overuse, but also because it's nearly always the choice of every sidewalk Sinatra who ever drunkenly belched out this classic on karaoke night at the local swill-pit, as well as the favorite number of all the desperate, deluded, pathetic wannabe crooners who, for whatever reason, feel compelled to mangle it beyond recognition on American Idol. If all the members of The Temptations weren't dead already, the countless tortured renditions that their beloved work has had to endure over the years, would kill them.

On the lighter side: David Ruffin and Eddie Kendricks once held a contest to see who could snort the most blow off the ass of a high-dollar Vegas call-girl. Ruffin won, and promptly retired to the hotel lounge to celebrate. Later that night he dropped dead of a massive coronary while leading a 300-person conga line that snaked its way through the fountains in front of Caesars Palace. There's a commemorative plaque in the fountain where Eddie went paws up. The Temptations are still touring the country, but the former Motown supergroup now consists of five white guys and a 200-pound Serbian dwarf named Otto. Papa Was a Rolling Investment Banker, faschizle.

17. "Horse With No Name" by America

Nay I say! Time to put this swaybacked old nag out to pasture, permanently. America was voted the wimpiest band of all time in 2001, edging out such notable contenders as The Carpenters, The Cowsills, and the 1910 Fruit Gum Company. This song never made any sense to me. The words are like, "In the dessert, you can remember your name." What, you can't remember your name if you're not in the dessert? "Oh shit! I forgot my name, I better get my ass over to the Sahara so I can remember who the hell I am!" Ridiculous.

As bad as this song is though, it's better than the uber-wimpy suckfest that is "Sister Golden Hair." If you must play anything by America, make it "Ventura Highway," which at least has "alligator-lizards in the air," whatever the hell they are. America is still around (the country and the band), but to protest the 1983 US invasion of Grenada, they changed their name to "Antarctica." I hear they're getting a pretty chilly reception. Zing!

18. "Satisfaction" by The Rolling Stones

This rates as edgy material for you guys, but how about playing some less obvious Stones, such as "Fingerprint File," "Heartbreaker," or "Street Fighting Man"? Fat chance. I can't get no satisfaction from your brain-dead playlist. Even though "Satisfaction" is great and has aged better than most 40-plus-year-old songs, it's also the most egregiously overplayed Stone's tune of all time.

In a completely unrelated digression: Notorious lothario Mick Jagger was such a depraved sex fiend, all the electric outlets in his London flat were covered with duct tape lest he electrocute himself trying to copulate with the sockets. The crack of dawn wasn't safe with "Tricky Mickey" around. He reportedly bedded so many groupies, that by the late 70's "Little Mick" was worn to a nub. Jagger finally had to have himself fitted with a wooden dick. Aside from a few splinters, Mick's amorous partners seemed to like "The Mick Stick" just fine.

Fun fact: Stone's guitarist Keith Richards is one of the few people on Earth who's been embalmed while technically still living. He looks terrific!

19. "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" by Marvin Gaye

I really hate this pile of Motown mush. It's right up there with "Respect" on the annoyance scale. I think MG's preacher pappy shot him to death for singing this one too many times. If so, he did us all a big favor. This song is so overplayed, worn out, and lame, it's fucking radioactive! It should be buried under a salt dome in Montana or used as the base ingredient for an effective shark repellent. It's that toxic. I'm ordering you to never subject us to this dreck again.

Instant trivia: Marvin never met a substance he didn't like, some habitually. One time during the 60's, he decided to eat psychedelic mushrooms that grew out of cow turds, only he was so high he got confused and ate the turds instead of the shrooms. Even so, he reportedly caught a groovy buzz anyway.

20. "Get Around" by The Beach Boys

Of all the Beach Boys songs to play to death every day, why this one? It sucks on a global scale. The B-Boys may have gotten around, but you guys can't seem to get around to the rest of their catalogue. You never play, "The Girls on the Beach" or "Warmth of the Sun" or "Let Him Run Wild," all superior to the bubble gum pop of "I Get Around." Rock is supposed to be about rebellion, not "making real good grades." What this song really suffers from is criminal overexposure. Same goes for the dreadful, "Help Me Rhonda" and "Fun Fun Fun." So get a fucking life and quit playing "I Get Around."

Side note: The Boys leader, Brian Wilson, had a nervous breakdown during the 60's and locked himself in his bedroom for five years, where he subsisted solely on saltine crackers, tins of tuna, and jerky. Even though he didn't write any music during this sabbatical, and pretty much just sat there in bed staring at the opposite wall, he did manage to gain 300 pounds and fashion a crude chess-set from his excess ear wax (interestingly, it was a Civil War chess set).

One more side note: Although none of the boys could surf, Dennis Wilson did enjoy scuba diving. He drowned when he went for a dive off Santa Monica and forgot to wear his oxygen tanks. The autopsy showed he had enough bootleg Mexican Quaaludes in him to kill a cape buffalo.

Yet another side note: While Brian was away, The Beach Boys briefly tried cult leader Charles Manson on lead vocals. Charlie gave the band a much needed edge, but was shown the door after Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme gave the entire band crabs following a three day debauch at the Spahn movie ranch. In fact, it was the Beach Boys Charlie was trying to get revenge on when he sent members of "The Family" out on their murderous mission back in ‘69. The spaced-out idiots just went to the wrong address.

21. "If You Leave Me Now" by Chicago

I've hated Chicago (the band, not the city) ever since they infected the music landscape with the chick-centric, senior prom weepy, "Color My World" back in the early 70's. They cemented their wimp-out status with squish classics such as this sewage. I'd say "If You Leave Me Now" is shit, but it wouldn't be fair to the shit. Shit has substance. I'd like to do to this song what the Vikings used to do to the old-folk Vikings after they'd outlived their usefulness: put them on an iceberg and shove it out to sea. The pussy-whipped singer should just go ahead and blow his brains out and get it over with.

Inevitable footnote: Speaking of blowing your brains out, Chicago frontman Terry Kath did just that back in the 70's. Ripped on a concoction of horse-laxatives and Southern Comfort, he played a game of Russian Roulette and lost. Not too surprising really, considering he was playing…with an automatic instead of a revolver!

Semi-obligatory aside: Chicago attempted to cash in on the brief (it lasted fifteen minutes) chanting craze of 1997 by releasing a comeback album of jazzed-up Gregorian chants, but it failed to crack Billboard's hot 100 and Chicago broke up citing "extremely bad vibes." If you're interested, Chicago's chanting CD is available on Amazon for $1.99. I hear they make great coasters.

22. "Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes" by Edison Lighthouse

Alright, I want to know the truth. Who is paying you to play this song every day? I hope it's a lot because this thing sucks bilge water. If you can hear the lyrics "Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes" and not picture some chick urinating on flowers, you're a better man than me. One of the most insipid things to ever be put on vinyl. I don't know or care what happened to Edison Lighthouse, but there's a special place in Rock and Roll Hell waiting for them. If I was given the choice of being hung naked from a meat hook with piano wire or having to listen to this song one more time, I'd have to give serious consideration to the piano wire. Again, who is paying you to play this excrement? Whatever it is, I'll double it.

23. "Burning Love" by Elvis Presley

The big E has hundreds of songs to his credit and yet you persist in shoving this particular one down our throats at every meal. And it sucks. More like "A Hunka, Hunka Burnin Crap!" Even "Rock-A-Hula" would be preferable. But don't try to fob-off any worn-out Presley classics such as "Hound Dog" or "Teddy Bear" or kitschy late Elvis drivel like "In The Ghetto" on us. How about some less well traveled Elvis, like "Such A Night" or the underrated toe tapper "Big Love, Big Heartache"? Believe it or not, the soundtrack to the awful Elvis novelty flick "Harum-Scarum" is full of seldom heard classics.

* * *

Even though there are a lot more musical affronts to bitch about, I'm going to wrap it up. This thing is getting longer than Atlas Shrugged, and Elvis seems like as good a place to stop as any. I think I've made my point, but I know what you're going to say. "But Tom, we can't quit playing these songs. They're the ones the great moronic masses want to hear. They can't handle listening to anything they haven't heard ten million times before."

To that I say, screw the masses! Most of them have their head up their kazoo so far it would take the Jaws of Life to extricate it. They'll lap up anything you put in front of them like grateful puppies, trust me. In the meantime, have you guys given any thought to a career change? Might I suggest sheep-herding in New Zealand or working on an oil-rig in the South China Sea? Anything that would get you as far away from a radio station as possible.

Epilogue: I finally quit that cursed job (having to be around Ellen on a regular basis, in the end proved unbearable) and returned to private life. I don't hate those songs near as much anymore, but of course I'm not hearing them day in and day out anymore either. I think that may have something to do with it. In the end, the joke was on me. I've since learned that the station in question didn't even use disc-jockeys. The whole sham circus was run by a computer in New Jersey. Oh well.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got the classic schlock hit "Brandy (You're A Fine Girl)" by Looking Glass, stuck in my head, and I can't get it out. I'm considering a twelve gauge shotgun as a means of removal.