More full of evil than...

The Pussycat Dolls are leading a crusade of shiteness in the charts. Their song, 'Don’t Cha' is... well, not a song as such, more a rhythm for them to grind their various lady bits at the screen. They're trashy, they're sleazy, and I cannot hear 'Don't Cha' without adapting the lyrics from:

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha? Don't cha?
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak* like me? Don't cha? Don't cha?

To:

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha? Don't cha?
Don't cha wish your girlfriend had more STDs? Don't cha? Don't cha?

Because, frankly, they all look like you'd want a good wipe down after touching them and I'd prefer my girlfriend not to look like she'd shag anything with limbs. But that's just me.

*Oh, 'freak' seems to mean someone who'll give you a blow job in public and cock-tease all your friends. I bet that's not in the OED.

Anyway, not to be outdone by that, the Black Eyed Peas came out with this... interesting song, which I first figured to be a joke song in the manner of Goldie Lookin' Chain:

What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What u gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream
Make u scream, make you scream.
Cos of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps.

What the buggery?
As Bill Bailey says, "the charts are more full of evil than an Al Queda suggestion box".

I don't know what the world's coming to, I really don't.

In other news, I was at a work thingy last night, where lots of organisations met up and tried to persuade tourist groups to patronise the winter festivals. There were a couple of great quotes from the orators:

1) "54% of the people [of the 100,000 at the Hogmanay party] are from the UK and, indeed, abroad."

2) "Choice is not a nice word. It sounds too much like... moist."