Stuck in the Friday Five

So I got up this morning. Took a shower. Put on some clothes and went to work.

Four hours later, I came back home, had a tuna sandwich, kissed my pretty little wife and went back to work.

Four hours after that, I came home, changed into an outfit more befitting 90 degree weather, loaded the kid into the car and headed towards the mom's house. For she has a pool and is willing to share.

Halfway to mom's I realized something.

I have been humming a Taylor Swift song for ten hours straight. If my frontal cortex was a radio station, I would owe Taylor Swift seventeen dollars and thirty-two cents.


Oh sure, we've all been caught bouncing to Kelly Clarkson with the windows rolled down at a red light, but Taylor Swift singing "I knew you were trouble when you walked in" for nearly ten hours is a cruel joke of brain power if I've ever heard one.

And that gives me and idea for today's Friday Five:

Songs that dance on the tip of your tongue.


Warning, however, do not continue reading if you're the kind of person who A) Blames other people for getting songs stuck in their head or B) Was born after 1978, for you will not know most of these songs and will forever be scarred if you look them up and I don't want to take on that kind of responsibility.

And also, please understand, this is in no way a complete list. It follows no pattern but what first jumped to my mind as I drove the last few miles to the mom's house. Make your own list and feel free to send it to me.

Number One:
Mickey was so fine, he blew Toni Basil's mind. And won't get out of yours.

Number Two:
Beat It
The worst is that you find yourself trying to emulate Michael Jackson's voice with your own painfully inadequate falsetto.

Number Three:
Manic Monday
Written by Prince, delivered to us by The Bangles. If you know it, it is now stuck there.

Number Four:
What I Am
Damn Edie Brickell with her nonsense lyric and infectious groove.

Number Five:
Anything by ABBA
Dancing Queen, Take a Chance, throw at dart at the wall and take your pick. However, the absolute effing worst, the one that will haunt your dreams, the one that will get you kicked out of every men's club you may or may not belong to:


That song is stickier than gum in your hair. Poo on your shoe. Sharpie on your forehead.

Trouble, Trouble, Trouble.

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