I heard another song by Pitbull on my way home. This man symbolises everything wrong with popular music. Like David Guetta or Timbaland, just slapping his name on a track makes it an instant hit. He is also so overtly crude with his lyrics (supposing he does write his own) that I am stunned that hardly any of his songs is censored.
It all began badly with 'I know you want me / You know I want you / I know you want me / You know I want you'. If these two want each other that badly, then go ahead and do it. Just please, please, stop singing that catchy-as-an-STD refrain.
Then we had 'Hotel Room Service' with its witty title (a play on 'service', just one of the many 'puns' that slowly eat away at your soul). The words leave nothing to the imagination: 'Your man just left, I'm the plumber tonight / I'll check your pipes, oh you the healthy type / Well, here goes some egg whites'. Talk about mixing metaphors.
Oh, and if that bald cucaracha showed up at my hotel room door I'd squash him and his eggs.
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