Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….



I didn’t have to think about this one for very long at all….

I seriously cannot stand ‘Blurred Lines’, to the extent that I cannot bear to feature the video on my blog, so this slightly lame parody will have to do.

OK, Where to start?

The sexist/rapey/female objectification themes, are to my mind, the least offensive thing about it.

It’s the sheer fucking #SMUGNESS of Robin Thicke’s face throughout that makes me want to put my boot through the TV screen.

It’s not even that good a song.  I doubt it would have sold in the volumes it did without the video and subsequent controversy and press coverage.

In fairness, I actually used to like his music, and own his first album which features a couple of really great tracks, but I kind of got an inkling that he was a bit of a #tosser after seeing him perform (well mime to) ‘Everything I Can’t Have’ on breakfast TV one morning.  There he was dancing around, then suddenly he hissed to the backing band ‘C’mon boys, get into it!’.   It was then that I noticed that they all ignored him and continued with set, stony expressions on their faces.  Hmm.  He must be a right #dickhead to evoke that kind of response from musicians, given they would presumably want to avoid pissing him off and/or not working for ITV again.

Then ‘Blurred Lines’ and that video came out, pretty much confirming my suspicions.

I wasn’t shocked by it. I’m a grown ass woman and have seen a bit of tit before.  I just thought it was #pathetic.

Q. What kind of man has to pay women to trot naked around him and his (fully clothed) buds in order to feel good about himself?

A. The same kind that needs to write about the (alleged) size of his dick on a wall, while smirking and nodding at it.


What. A. #Twat.

As for you Pharrell, what were you thinking?  Lucky for you that you came up with ‘Happy’ and redeemed yourself, otherwise you’d be on my shit list and at the mercy of my poisoned pen too.

Going back to Biggus Dickus, the third and final nail in his coffin was his notorious appearance at the Grammys, dressed as #Beetlejuice, grinning lasciviously as Miley Cyrus ground her tiny, spotty boys bum against #thebeast, whilst brandishing a big foamy finger and sticking her massive tongue in and out like a salamander on speed.

Urgh.  #creepyunclerobin.

Not that his sleaziness was restricted to performance, you understand.  What followed then was a series of rather public indiscretions, one showing him groping a fan’s bottom in the reflection of the mirror behind them whilst being photographed, which resulted in his long suffering wife, Paula, finally kicking him to the kerb.

So what does he do?

Apologize?  Offer to go to counselling or see a shrink?  Speak publicly about his appalling behaviour and his plans to remedy it in the hope of getting his marriage back on track?

No.  He wrote a song called ‘Get Her Back’, featuring such lines as ‘All I wanna do is give you that thing’ (#obsessedwithhiswinky), ‘Keep her satisfied’ and ‘It’s so hard.’

It’s all I want, I want, I want, I want.  My dick, my dick, my dick, my dick.  I swear he’s like a dog in a man’s body.

No ‘I’m a two timing prick’, ‘I’m heading for a full blown midlife crisis’, or ‘I molested a minor’ lines featured in there at all.

Paula, if you take this jerk back, I don’t think anyone of our sex will ever forgive you!

No room for blurred lines here, you need to channel big Dolly P and go for a D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

I know you want it.

Maybe even as much as I do. 😉


P.S. As for his hashtag abuse, don’t even get me started…





  1. Agreed. Say no more. He deserves silence and a solid wall of disdainful backs.

  2. As I don’t know a single song from the past … oh, 20 years, I would never be able to mention one known to Youth.
    And in the days when I DID know songs, there were simply too many I couldn’t stand. [grin]

  3. creepy guy, i do like your verbal jibes!

    • I know I’m probably on my own on this one Barbara, as a lot of my followers love this track, but I think it’s the ultimate vanity project, and boring to boot.

  4. After this little gem, I can’t think of a single thing that comes close to qualifying. It’s not shocking – just overwhelmingly boring. And depressing, to think that pop culture finds merit these days in puerile smut.

  5. Ach, Madame, what a world-class schwantz (if you will).

    It is my state’s official song.
    It is my city’s unofficial anthem.
    I cannot escape it.
    And it is So. Fucking. G-d-awful.

    • 🙂 I dont hate it but it always reminds me of drunken parties where everyone puts there arms around one another in a line and high kicks, usually falling over before the last ‘NEW YARK!!’ tails off…

  6. Interesting…From the dialect rendering, Madame, it sounds as though you have found yourself amidst polluted Chicagoans.
    Damn Mid-Western yahoos—they’re not only embarassing themselves, they’re making us all look bad.

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