Bathroom Polo

Right now... he’s probably dabbing on three dollars worth of that bathroom polooooooooooo...

"My problem with this song is thrice fold," Mads, my Norewegian companion, said.

"Okay, hit me sweet cheeks."

"First, we all know for a fact she doesn’t shoot whiskey and couldn’t swing a Louisville Slugger if Wade Boggs gave her step-by-step instructions. This is obviously a transparent attempt by her PR people to get her out of that sweet girl box using some type of female-empowerment applause anthem."

"Well, who’s worse? The PR people, or the women who can’t see through the transparent attempt at an applause/female-empowerment song and eat the crap up."

"Ooh, good point."

"I know. Okay, go on."

"All right, second, she carves her name into his upholstery. No one with any experience in breaking the law at all would do something like that. Now the cops know who to catch. Right?"

"It just goes back to the transparent attempt by her PR people to get her out of the good girl box. Neither they nor her know anything about breaking the law. It’s as silly as Crash was in discussing race relations."

"The movie with James Spader?"

"No, the bad one with Don Cheadle."

"Oh, but he was good in that, didn’t you think?"

"He was, but the movie was lame. Okay, bring it home."

"Okay. Third, she talks about the guy wearing Bathroom Polo. Who is that a bigger indictment of? The cheeseball who wears that crap, or you for dating him?"

"Oh, you for dating him, of course."

"Of course. It’s just stupid."

"Well, what if this is a post modern depiction of a white trash chick from the South?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if it’s not an applause song? What if the chick is as much the subject of the songstress’ ire as the guy and his hoochie fling? What if it’s a statement of the whole Jerry Springer culture?"

"You’re giving them way too much credit."

"You’re right."