Mr. Husband has a very special skill in life, a special skill that constantly drives me absolutely out of my mind. He's really good at ruining songs.
Really, really good at it.
He changes the lyrics to pretty much every song, always managing to find the lowest possible gutter. For example, the lyrics to "Hole-Hearted" by Extreme should be, "There's a hole in my heart . . ." He changes them to, "There's a hole in my butt that can only be filled by you."
I KNOW! That song will be forever ruined for you. You're welcome.
Not all of his lyric changes are quite so . . . let's go with disturbing. Yeah, disturbing. Some of them are sort of funny. For example, "Stand by Your Man," should start out "Sometimes it's hard to be a woman." Instead, his version goes, "Sometimes it's hard to be a wombat." That's not so bad.
But his rendition of "Like a Virgin," is that bad. He changes it to, "Like a Penis." Go ahead, sing the first couple of lines to yourself.
Welcome to my world. It's very dark and scary here.
Mr. Husband's need to ruin every song ever written is EXACTLY why I can't even look at the Mother's Day gift that Alexis made at school. I should love it. I should cherish it. I should think it's absolutely amazing.
But when I see, "You are the wind beneath my wings," across the bottom, all I can think about is, "You are the wind beneath my sheets."
Thanks a lot, Mr. Husband.
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Thank you all so much for your comments on the previous post. Y'all are the bestest and then some.