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Point/Counterpoint: George Thorogood

  Point/Counterpoint

                      I’m Bad To The Bone
                                   
By George Thorogood

   On the day I was born the nurses all gathered ’round. And they gazed in wide wonder at the joy they had found. The head nurse spoke up. Said “leave this one alone.” She could tell right away that I was bad to the bone. Bad to the bone. B-B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-B-Bad. Bad to the bone. I broke a thousand hearts before I met you. I’ll break a thousand more, baby before I am through. I wanna be yours pretty baby. Yours and yours alone. I’m here to tell ya honey that I’m bad to the bone. Bad to the bone. B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-Bad. Bad to the bone. I make a rich woman beg. I’ll make a good woman steal. I’ll make an old woman blush. And make a young woman squeal. I wanna be yours pretty baby. Yours and yours alone. I’m here to tell ya honey
that I’m bad to the bone. B-B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-B-Bad. Bad to the bone. And when I walk the streets, Kings and Queens step aside. Every woman I meet, they all stay satisfied. I wanna tell ya pretty baby, well ya see I make my own. I’m here to tell ya honey that I’m bad to the bone. Bad to the bone. B-B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-Bad. B-B-B-Bad. Bad to the bone.

                George Thorogood Won’t Be Getting Christmas Presents
                                                                
By Santa Claus

   While reading the words of George Thorogood, my immediate reaction was, “Great! That’s one less house I have to visit on Christmas Eve.” Then I said, “Hey, wait a minute. That’s not very jolly.” And yet, knowing full well that I wasn’t being jolly, I thought about the one billion people on this planet that I have to deliver presents to (there are 7 billion people, but only 1 billion of them have been good this year) and, despite the fact that it’s not jolly of me, I was actually relieved that I won’t have to visit George Thorogood’s house on Christmas Eve. And if that’s the case–if I look at bad behavior and actually feel relieved by it– then maybe it’s time to “hang up the uniform.” Yes, that means what you think it means. I am hereby taking this opportunity to announce my retirem…whoa! Holy shit! Did you see what almost happened? George Thorogood almost got Santa Claus to retire! If that’s not bad, then I don’t know what is! In fact, that’s just plain evil. But unfortunately for you, Mr. Thorogood, you have done nothing but lite a fire under my ass and renew my sense of purpose. The good people of this world will get their presents this year, Mr. Thorogood. You, on the other hand, will not.
   On the day that my rival was born, the nurses could tell right away that he was bad to the bone. Do you want to know what I can tell right away? I can tell right away that on December twenty-fifth, George Thorogood isn’t going to to get that new silk throw that he asked me for in a letter that he mailed to me last month. By the way, in my opinion, asking Santa Claus for a silk throw seems to be an unusual gift for someone who claims to be “bad to the bone.” But I don’t judge; I just give
people their gifts, if they deserve them. Thorogood brags about how he has broken a thousand hearts, and even has the gumption, with only seven days remaining until Christmas, to threaten to break a thousand more. Well, do you know what else is heartbreaking, Georgie? It’s heartbreaking when you wake up on Christmas morning to discover that you didn’t get season one of Gossip Girl on DVD. Yeah, he wants that too. In his letter from last month, he wrote:

             Dear Santa,

             I would like season one of Gossip Girl on DVD so that I can relive the magic of when Nate and Blair fell in love.

Mr. Thorogood, you make a rich woman beg, a good woman steal, and an old woman blush. These are all very bad things, but trying to force me into retirement? Hitler is in Hell right now, shaking his head and saying, “Wow! Even I wouldn’t do that!” As for making a young woman squeal, well, heh heh, do what you need to do. I’ll let you get away with that one. I’ve been known to make Mrs. Clause squeal on occasion. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is that you can’t go around being an asshole all year long and then have the nerve to ask me for a fifty dollar gift certificate to Applebee’s. Because Kings and Queens might step aside when you walk the streets, Thorogood, but Santa Claus will not. Like that Chinese kid in Tianneman Square, I’m not fucking moving! Every woman you meet stays satisfied? Good for them. At least someone will be satisfied, because come Christmas morning, you won’t be satisfied when you get a stocking full of coal!
Oh, one more thing. You know how you‘re always talking about how you want bourbon, scotch, and beer? Well, I’m keeping it and sharing it with my reindeer.

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