You Can't Avoid Boyd - I'm Addicted to Girly Pop Rock

I’m Marcus Boyd and I’m Addicted to Girly Pop Rock

Recently, my friend Peppers was in the midst of a sexual dry spell. He had been involuntarily celibate for about six weeks, a long time for this sexual predator whose standards are two holes and a heartbeat. He was in the middle of the slump, just like a baseball player would endure throughout a typical season. In both slumps, you don’t notice anything different at all until you view the results and notice your lack of production. As you slump, you try harder, which only compounds to your predicament. Eventually, all slumps end, whether it’s a majestic home run or a seeing-eye single. Whatever it is, it all looks the same in the box score; you are off the snide and back to normal. I wish I could tell you Peppers’ slump ended in style and he banged a girl out of his league twice at night and once in the morning. Unfortunately, Peppers hit a seeing-eye single; he infiltrated a bachelorette party by singing “Call Me Maybe” and settled for a fiveish.

This post isn’t about what it takes to hook up these days. If it were, it would be 700 words easily summed up as “Girls have all the power, but guys should do whatever it takes legally to trick them into bed. If you ain’t cheatin’, you ain’t tryin’.” This post is about pop rock being dominated by women. Some may hear what happened to Peppers and think he’s a tool for singing the Carly Rae Jepsen hit at a bar. I would not call him a tool, because those who live in glasshouses should not throw rocks. I’m Marcus Boyd, and I’m addicted to girly pop rock.

They say the first step to fixing a problem is admitting it. Well, I’m admitting it. Most who know me would call me a man’s man. I’m into sports and drink with the best of them. I’m not into romantic comedies, unlike several of my male friends. However, girly pop rock is my kryptonite. I would like to point out the following songs for my current affliction:

Kelly Clarkson’s “Since You’ve Been Gone”. This song came out when I was in college. It was played all the time at house parties and bars. It also didn’t help that my one rugby teammate used to scream along to it in a high-pitched comical way. I know all the words to this song and was viewed like a leper when I sang along to it at a DC bar months ago. I hate Kelly Clarkson for introducing me to girly pop rock. Luckily, God has stricken her with the appetite and body type of Jumbo Elliott as punishment for her shitty music.

Gwen Stefani’s “It’s My Life”. I had another rugby teammate who was known for two things: his impressive strength and his love for this song. Considering I was their unofficial roommate, I heard this song approximately 93 million times my senior year. Fist yourself Gwen. Please note I still don’t consider rugby a gay sport despite the appreciation of these songs from my college teammates and the sports’ admiration of male nudity in public settings.

Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”. Her song is my creed. And anyone who has ever accused my hips of lying is either a liar themselves, jealous of my hips, or a Communist.

Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the USA”. Fuck you Hannah Montana. Just when I thought I was over my addiction, you pull me back in with this song. If I hear the line “And the Britney song was on….”, I lose my shit. It’s embarrassing for a man of my stature to be fist-pumping to a song from Billy Ray Cyrus’ daughter. I can only hope your dad’s mullet is passed down from generation to generation.

Any song by Katy Perry. I’m on to you Katy Perry. You got me on board with your “I Kissed a Girl” song. You knew lesbianism would nab me hook, line, and sinker. Throw in the fact my gym subliminally plays your songs and the radio can’t get enough of you, and I know more of your songs than I should. My only saving grace is you voluntarily hung out with certified nutjob Russell Brand.

I have gotten better throughout the years. I’m not on the “Call Me Maybe” bandwagon and avoided the temptation of Kesha and other such succubuses. I listen to satellite radio to curtail my listening to only rock and alternative music. However, I know I am one hit song away from relapsing. Who knows what music is capable in this American Idol/Glee world we now live in. Am I scared? A little bit. But I am confident I can overcome this addiction. It’s pop music, it’s not coke. I have never blown a dude to hear a Mandy Moore song. I will beat this, faithful readers of HJFHS. As God as my witness, I shall overcome.

          -Written by Marcus Boyd