Part of this is a piece I posted to a message board in a fit of self-generated pique during a particularly lackadaisical workday. The topic was “Worst Songs of All Time,” and these are as fine candidates as any of 1,000 others.

"Drinking in L.A." - Bran Van 3000 -- I was asked to do an interview with these one-hit clowns, at which point I realized that, to make a living at freelance music writing, I'd have to whore myself out completely. Forget it. I’d rather whore myself out doing something I don’t care about.

Anything by Van Halen with that dork from Extreme or that red-haired dork from Montrose.

"American Pie" - Don McLean -- A sure way to get me to punch myself in the stomach until I puke up my Fruit Loops.

"You've Got A Friend" - Wife Beater James Taylor -- If I were a violent man, I would play this loudly while dismembering my victims and throwing the body parts to a pack of hyenas.

"I Can't Dance" - Genesis -- Proof there is no god. The most annoying Genesis song of all time. Why won't Phil Collins stab himself in the eye? Why? Whyeeeeeeeee?

"Like a Rock" - Bob Seger -- This guy used to rock (see "2 + 2 = ?"). But now all he brings to mind are truck commercials and the occasional glimpse of Tom Cruise in his underwear. Are those two things somehow cosmically connected? Hmmmmmm. See "Silver Bullet" by the Briefs for more scathing criticism of this formerly commercially viable beardo.

Styx - all of it, even "Mr. Roboto" -- I'm with Homer Simpson on this one. Remember the episode where he's floating down the River Styx, and Styx is playing in the background? He says, "This is hell!" Yes, Virginia, there is a band worse than Journey.

The Starship – “We Built This City on Rock and Roll” – There is no excuse why any country, even one where the average person reads on a fifth grade level and where Everybody Eats Raymond (did I get that right?) equals critically acclaimed culture, should make this song #1. The same people who bought this record read Parade, think You’ve Got Mail is a “cute movie” and believe “douche” to be the sound made when someone cannonballs into a backyard pool. We are a nation of chowderheads.

“God Bless America” – millions of clueless bastards everywhere – First of all, I don’t believe in god, so they’ve earned my hate at square one. Secondly, the idea that god -- whether he be an angry, bearded, homophobic cunt in a robe and gay-ass sandals, or David Berkowitz’s dog -- has a stiffer hard on for America more so than any other country is loathsome.

“Cecilia” – Simon and Garfunkel – I rather dislike Simon & Garfunkel, but I must be restrained from tearing out my pancreas when I hear this one. I went to a geeky high school summer journalism program at Northwestern University (where I made out for hours (hours!) with this really cute girl because she loved god and wouldn’t (although I kept hoping, obviously) even let me touch her yah-yohs), and my roommate was a supreme nutsmoker. A flaming a-hole who used more hairspray than a New Jersey Eyetalian princess circa 1985, had the personality of a margarine tub and played “Cecilia” over and over again on his boom box. He later truly believed me to be a devil worshipper, because I and a friend held a mock religious ceremony praising a strange plastic decorative squirrel – flame-colored, with fangs, bat wings and some sort of weird tail (pure evil!) – that we found in someone’s yard. I did nothing to disabuse him of the notion of me as Satan fan.

"Candle in the Wind" - Elton John and "Wind Beneath My Wings" - Bette Midler -- If a song has the word "wind" in the title and isn't about farting, I don't want to hear it.

"Piano Man" - Billy Joel -- Fake. Fake rock 'n' roller. Fake blue collar guy (a real blue collar guy would have married Lita Ford, a stone fox, not Christie Brinkley, a stone moron). Fake empathy for veterans (fight in Vietnam much, Joel?). Fake history buff. Apparently, he was a piano man at one point, but that doesn't detract from the utter stink of this rallying cry for neutered stockbrokers and band fags.

Cringe Factor for each song: 10.