“Disco Duck”? Come on, Jim.
Look, I think we agreed, once upon a time, that disco was just too easy. And you really don’t want to go there with me. Your generation was generally too coked to the gills to remember the most egregious crimes against humanity committed by that “genre,” but my generation, well, we might as well have been strapped to a gurney and had the shit shotgun-pumped into our veins. Some members of the Class of ’79 are still in therapy trying to recover from the Andy Gibb phenomenon (by the way, haven’t I actually heard you defending the Bothers Gibb? Hmmm – something here smells suspiciously of polyester….)
Seriously – “Disco Duck,” as appalling as it was, is little more than an Rookie League cheap shot that even somebody of your parents’ generation could have gotten off.
No, Jim, if you’re gonna run with the big dogs, you need to jump down off the porch.
“You’re Having My Baby.” Paul Anka.
You sure you don’t have something better to do?
Also, Pecaut, Rho, Brother Paul, and beast_o_bourbon are not helping.