Ladies, Leave Your Man at Home: Revisiting My Fall 2000 Mix CD

I recently dusted off a mix CD I made in my twenties  and wondered if the lyrics still held relevance, given my additional 15 years of wisdom, life experience and hair loss.

Some of these artists were all about telling you what to do...

Christina Aguilera is still at it for me to c'mon over, c'mon over, baby. Honey, if you really want me to Uber all the way across town, you’re going to have to do way better than you've got all I'm looking for. You've got personality. Orientation aside, telling a man he has personality is a real boner shrinker.  Will Adam or Usher be there? Are you still friendly with Cher, or do you blame each other for Burlesque?

Ladies, leave your man at home. The club is full of ballers and their pockets full grown. It’s a school night, Destiny’s Child, so as long as I’m in bed by 9:30, count me in! Also, please don’t judge me for wearing knee braces on the dance floor—there’s like zero cartilage left down there. While I’m out clubbing, my man will be home binging on a bucket of mint chocolate chip and back episodes of Supernatural. 

Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now.  It’s not, Everclear.  Sure, we’ve had lots of good things happen in the past 15 years: the first black president, the legalization of gay marriage, far fewer people wearing Crocs.  But they recently announced a Pez movie that’s bound to be anything but wonderful.  Also, we have these horrible things now called "quinoa" and "kale."

Others were throwing out declarations and observations...

Madonna is enlightening no one with her assertion that music makes the people come together, yeah.  I’ve found that shared hatred of politicians and free donuts in the break room achieves the same.  Where’s my Grammy nom?

You’re an ocean! You’re the big sloppy ocean, Fastball.  I’m a pretty, pretty butterfly.

Wyclef Jean remains gone ‘til November, which explains why he never responded to the Evite to my Pampered Chef party.

I want to be the minority. Trust me, Green Day. You don’t. People will pass all sorts of hateful legislation.

And, of course, there are the questions...

Will the real Slim Shady please stand up? No. No, I won’t. Not after that last time you implicated me in that Fred Durst/Carson Daly mess. 

Mya retains her crown as queen of the run-on question. What'cha gonna do when you can't say no, when her feelings start to show, boy, I really need to know, and how you gonna act, how you gonna handle that, what'cha gonna do when she wants you back? Dang, girl! Give me a second to respond.  And yes, I *do* think this is all about the brand new Benz I bought for you.

Finally, have the Baja Men ever determined who, in fact, let the dogs out? I stand by my theory it was Jason Hardesty and that group of ne'er-do-wells that hang out in front of the Citgo station. 

George Miller (@DisturbedGeorge) is an office drone whose work has been featured on various Chicago stages, WGN TV, Advocate.com and his parents’ refrigerator.  He also competes in open water distance swimming whenever the parks department deems the level of sewage in Lake Michigan to be acceptable.