10 Love Songs About Inanimate Objects


This post is the result of one of those wacky notions I get when randomly listening to my music library. It occurred to me, when listening to the first song on this list, that there are a lot of love songs about inanimate objects. Since I’m not really big on real love songs, especially since the love of my life died, I decided to find more in my music library.

Here are 10 of the greatest love songs about things that aren’t people in no particular order than that in which they occurred to me. In the interest of not having this list be entirely about places, I’ve chosen to omit songs about specific destinations like New York, New York and Chicago. There are a bunch more–this list could go on forever–but these are the first 10 that I thought of.

1. Black Sabbath – Sweet Leaf

The song that started this whole silly idea. There are a lot of love songs about weed, but for my money, this one is the best. It’s actually one of my favorite Sabbath songs.

objet d’amour: marijuana

sample lyrics:

When I first met you, didn’t realize
I can’t forget you, for your surprise
You introduced me to my mind
And left me wanting you and your kind
I love you, oh you know it

2. Mike Ness – I’m In Love With My Car

MIke Ness was/is the lead singer for Social Distortion, a band that I loved as a teenager. This is from his solo album, which is one of my favorites. I can relate to this song since that sound of a V8 engine turning over at the beginning is enough to make you purr. I was also in love with my 1970 Buick Skylark named Tank before I had to give her to a better home. I miss her.

Note: This is not a cover of the Queen song with the same title, which is also pretty nifty.

objet d’amour: a car

sample lyrics:

Ain’t got a girl
I ain’t got many friends
Gonna drive that car of mine
To the living end

3. Trooper – Roller Rink

Ah, the 70s, where musically, anything went. The 1970s produced the best music in modern history. Obviously, most of the music made in that decade can’t compare to Beethoven, but as far as modern music goes, it’s the best decade. Take, for example, the Sabbath video above and this song. It’s a stupid song about roller skating, but musically, it’s actually pretty badass.

This is the dumbest video ever, but it’s the only YouTube video I could find of this song, so don’t pay too much attention to the visuals.

objet d’amour: roller skating

sample lyrics:

I’m gonna go on down to the roller rink
And roll my blues away
Gonna strap on a pair of roller skates
And roll

4. Hammerlock – Cold Coors

Coors in a can is probably the worst American beer ever, only rivaled for king of terrible beers by Budweiser. Seriously, why would you drink Coors when you could drink anything else?

Anyway, no matter how you feel about Coors, here’s an awesome love song about it. Enjoy.

objet d’amour: beer

sample lyrics:

Cold Coors in a can
A shot of whiskey and a cigarette
in this life, that’s your one sure bet to have a good time

5. Honky/Pat Travers – Snortin’ Whiskey

And while, we’re on the subject of alcohol, here’s a love song about whiskey and cocaine. The original is by Pat Travers, but I prefer Honky’s version. This is a cover, but you should check out Honky’s original music, because they are supremely badass.

This video features Pepper Keenan of Corrosion of Conformity and Kirk Windstein of Crowbar, if you’re into that sort of thing. The singer for Honky is Jeff Pinkus from The Butthole Surfers, also if you’re into that sort of thing, which I surely am.

objet d’amour: whiskey and cocaine

sample lyrics:

I’m a fast movin’ baby I can show you around
I got so much cocaine ain’t never comin’ down
Snortin’ whiskey and drinkin’ cocaine
Got this feelin’ I’m gonna drive that girl insane

6. Zeke – Punk Rock Records

Oh, Zeke. They’re probably my favorite modern hardcore punk band. By modern, I mean they didn’t exist in the 70s or 80s. Their longest song is a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Rhiannon, which is absolutely terrible, but I love it anyway. Most of their songs are about a minute long, including this one.

objet d’amour: punk rock records

sample lyrics:

She loves punk rock records
She plays them every night
She loves punk rock records
She plays them every day

7. Run-DMC – My Adidas

I admit to owning a pair of Adidas Superstars, the black ones with white stripes. Besides my Converse All Stars, they are my favorite shoes, but since they’re leather, they’re winter shoes while Converse are summer shoes. When one pair wears out, I buy another.

objet d’amour: shoes

sample lyrics:

we travel on gravel, dirt road or street
I wear my Adidas when I rock the beat
on stage front page every show I go
it’s Adidas on my feet high top or low

8. B.B. King – Lucille

If I played guitar, I would definitely name mine and probably write a song about it, too. Fortunately, I don’t. Lucille is not one B.B. King guitar, but all of the guitars he’s ever played.

objet d’amour: a guitar

sample lyrics:

The sound that you’re listenin’ to
Is from my guitar that’s named Lucille
I’m very crazy about Lucille

9. Descendents – Van

It’s hard to choose just one love song from the Descendents about inanimate objects, since they have a few, but Van is one of my favorites. It’s about freedom.

objet d’amour: a van

sample lyrics:

Here in my van
I can eat my small squid
Dance the can-can
With my feet in the air

10. Clutch – Easy Breeze

This is one of Clutch’s prettiest songs, if you can call Clutch songs pretty. It’s about a love affair with nature and all the colors it can produce.

objet d’amour: nature

sample lyrics:

Easy breezy beautiful colored world
I’m in love with you
Your colors are a comedy

What are your favorite love songs about inanimate objects?

People Of The Office Part 2


It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these posts. Last time, even though I was doing the exact job I’m doing now, it was in a different building with different people. My company was sold a year ago and I was sold with it. Other than one warehouse worker, I’m surrounded by entirely different coworkers. Let’s dish the dirt on some current coworkers!

Stripper Shoes

I call her stripper shoes, because she wears shoes like these to work almost every day:


Our office is casual attire. I don’t mean business casual where you can wear khakis and a buttoned down shirt. I mean casual, as in essentially whatever you’d wear on the weekend. It’s really the only perk of my job.

The only rules we have at all are no open-toed shoes in the warehouse and no ripped clothing, and those rules are simply for liability insurance purposes. Other than that, pretty much anything goes. Hell, I even saw this one day (though he was a model hired for a photo shoot for our lingerie company):

Screen shot 2014-11-06 at 3.27.34 PM

Casual dress code, yet Stripper Shoes wears six-inch platform stripper shoes to work nearly every day, no matter what she’s wearing. I’ve seen her wear jean shorts and stripper shoes, not a good look.

For the record, stripper shoes are meant to strip in, not to wear in an office. Even when I wore heels every day, and I could run, dance or whatever else in them, I stayed away from six-inch platforms, because they are impossible to do anything in besides strip. No one looks good walking in stripper shoes, because they’re not designed for walking. They make even the most agile woman look like a newborn giraffe.


Lesbian Stereotype

On the complete opposite end of the girly spectrum, we have Lesbian Stereotype. She walks and dresses like a man, with a lot of flannel and work boots even though she works in an office, and she has a mostly shaved head in the form of a mohawk.

By the way, I’m still mad at lesbians for stealing the shaved head. When I had a shaved head, I never got hit on by women more in my life and I normally get hit on by a lot of lesbians. I think it’s because I’m a bit of a tomboy. I am not, however, a lesbian. I tried it and it didn’t take.

When I had a shaved head, people either assumed that I was a lesbian or in chemotherapy. Eventually, I got tired of the presumptions, which annoys me, because a shaved head was the best haircut I ever had.

Lesbian Stereotype is, in fact, a lesbian, which is good I suppose. If you’re going to be a stereotype, you might as well be whatever you’re stereotyping. She seems to have a mild crush on me. Every time she walks by my desk, she stares at me sidelong.


My cubicle is surrounded by salespeople who talk on the phone all day. This is the main reason I wear headphones. Directly opposite me is the loudest of the salespeople and I can hear her over my headphones.

I know all the intimate details of her life, because she tells them to her customers. I know where she lives, what her dog’s name is, all about her boyfriend, what she did over the weekend and that she went to a nudist beach one weekend. In a year, I think we’ve spoken face to face maybe a dozen times and I probably know more about her than her mother.

Ain’t no know English

I have to deal with our web guy a lot. He seems fairly competent at his job and knows quite a bit about web development. He even has some halfway decent marketing ideas, which continually amazes me, because if you heard him talk, you’d think he was a total raging idiot.

For example, here is a real email he sent me with no editing:

Screen shot 2015-09-01 at 1.35.06 PM

It was written in red, too, which is another pet peeve. At least it wasn’t in Comic Sans.

His emails are a direct reflection of the way he talks. He uses double negatives in sentences constantly. He actually, not ironically, uses the word “ain’t” when speaking in business meetings. How can someone be fairly competent at their technology job and come off as such a moron?

Rainbow Kitten Lady

My company was bought by the same company that bought the company I worked for before that. As a consequence, I work with a lot of people I worked with ten years ago. One of them is Rainbow Kitten Lady. I wrote about her before in an ancient post from 2009, so I’ll just quote myself:

[Rainbow Kitten Lady is] one of the meekest people I’ve ever met in my life. She is so demure that, if you happen to run into her in the narrow hallway, she will back up and make room for you to pass. Always. Most of the time, the process of retreat is accompanied by “Sorry, sorry, sorry” until you make your way on by. The only interaction she seems to enjoy is talking to animals in baby-talk. She never gives eye contact and she wears shirts that have puppies, rainbows or kittens on them every day. She is a living, breathing Cathy cartoon.

Rainbow Kitten Lady hasn’t changed a bit in six years. Fortunately, Wall Puncher, also mentioned in that post, doesn’t work at my company anymore.

I Have To Go…

Another of my former coworkers who I am blessed to work with again is my former manager. Back in 2009, she used her teenage daughter as an excuse to leave work constantly. She’d come over and say, “I have to go. My daughter has/needs/is doing…” whatever. She used that excuse at least once, sometimes, twice a week.

Her daughter is no longer a teenager. In fact, she doesn’t even live at home anymore. So, I was curious as to what excuses I Have To Go would use to leave work early now.

So far, it’s mostly been a range of medical ailments. “I have to go to the doctor, because,” this was this week’s excuse and it’s only Tuesday, “I tripped on a grape this weekend and hurt my back.”

Other excuses she has used: I have to meet my gardener/pool guy. I have to go get ready for Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur/Chanukah, etc. I have to go take my dog to the vet. One day, she spent over two hours buying dog food. I’ve bought dog food at lunch, too. It takes less than a half an hour to go to the nearest pet store, buy food and come back. I don’t know what she’s feeding her dog.

On election day, she had to go vote. She lives five minutes away and it took her three hours to vote during record-setting low voter turnout when only 1 in 10 Angelinos voted, and most of them voted by mail.

It’s become a running joke with other coworkers as to the most outlandish excuse. I have to go register for the draft. I have to go defend my property from zombies. I have to go stock up on rocket ship fuel. I have to go.

10 Things I Hate Part 31


1 – I hate when I’m stopped in traffic and decide to be nice by letting someone in from a driveway or side street, only to have them twiddle their thumbs about it. When I decide to let you in, it’s a limited time offer. I’m not going to wait all day for you to mosey into traffic. I’m being nice here! Take advantage of it now or I’ll ram you! I actually get annoyed when people pantomime-ask if they can sneak in front of me when it’s obvious that was my intention. I tend to ruin any goodwill derived from being nice with my impatience.

2 – I hate when I pull into a parking lot to find a bunch of people parked over the lines like total assholes, then, when I come out from the store, all the other assholes are gone and I’m the only one parked like an asshole. I want to shout to anyone in earshot, “There were a bunch of assholes here who made me park like this when I got here! I swear, I’m not normally an asshole!” Then I quickly get in my car and leave in shame before I get any more “you’re an asshole” looks.

This is a picture of a former coworker‘s normal parking job, but it illustrates my point.

3 – I hate when the car behind me honks and the car in front of me thinks I was the one who did it. If I honk, you’ll know it. I don’t like being blamed for someone else’s actions, even if it is just a honk.

4 – Website pop up boxes on mobile phones. I hate visiting a site on my phone only to have a box pop up say, “sign up to our email list, get a free case of the herpes!” It’s annoying, but simple enough to click on the X when you’re on a computer. This easy task becomes nearly impossible on a phone. It takes a ton of scrolling and zooming just to find the X, let alone click the damn thing. By that time, I’ve forgotten why I even went to the website in the first place.

5 – Strangely labeled bathrooms. Ladies and gentlemen, men and women, even guys and gals, or simply this will work:

jTxErLpTEI don’t want to have to think about which room to use. I just want to pee. I can’t stand nonsense like this:

31barcelonast9 33petitpalaisth6

A full bladder tends to blot out my symbols knowledge, so I don’t know off-hand whether I’m an arrow or a cross. Neither of those is particularly intuitive of the female anatomy. Using logic, I’d say I’m a cross since that’s where the arrow would aim like a target, but I don’t want to have to use logic or think of my lady bits as a target just to pee. If you’re going to use a symbol, please, put words there, too.

6 – Vacuuming. I hate it. I also hate the word since it’s hard to spell. Does any word really need two Us in a row? Greedy. Anyway, with carpet, a dog and a cat, I have no choice but to vacuum every week. I probably should vacuum more than that, but once a week is standard. When I empty the canister–a task I find both disgusting and oddly satisfying–there’s enough fur in there to build another dog/cat from scratch every week.

7 – People who don’t understand how lines (or queues for my peeps over the pond) work. At convenience stores, 7‑Eleven in particular, it’s an unwritten rule that the queue goes along the counter away from the door. This is a diagram of the layout of your typical 7‑Eleven and the way the line is supposed to work with the black dots representing people:

Screen shot 2015-06-25 at 4.14.39 PM

Most of the time it works that way, but then comes the outlier who is somehow completely unfamiliar with the rules of convenience stores and lines up through the aisles like so:

Screen shot 2015-06-25 at 4.12.55 PM

Which of course causes everyone else to go into a panic thinking that maybe they’ve been doing it wrong this whole time. NO. I don’t care how gross those hot dogs on rollers look, you stand there. It’s the unwritten rule. Line up by the rolling hot dogs, dammit!

8 – Work meetings. I had forgotten how awful they are. At my old job, say I needed to go over something with my boss or vice versa, I would walk into his office and ask if he had a minute. If he said no, he’d call me when he did. If he said yes, I would sit down in one of the several chairs there, explain the situation and get a verdict. The whole process would take no more than a half an hour, usually 10-15 minutes.

At my current job, in addition to the process outlined above, we also have monthly production meetings, which are scheduled in advance, include everyone involved in production (that’s at least 8 regular and 4 or so rotating), take at least an hour, and accomplish precisely nothing except wasting an hour. But we all get typed up meeting minutes afterward so we can show how little we actually accomplished.

The worst is that instead of having the meeting in the conference room where there are plenty of chairs, the manager holds it in her office where there are only five chairs. If you don’t get their early or bring your own chair, you don’t sit.

9 – Extremely obtrusive panhandlers. I don’t mind if you ask me for change when I’m walking into a store, but do not come up to my car, knock on the window, and demand money from me like I owe you. No. You get nothing. Or worse, get indignant about it when I say no.

10 – Lists that claim to have 10 things on them, but then when you read them, there are only 9. It throws my mental calculations, such as they are, all off. Can’t you count or are you just lazy?

More Things I Hate

People Of The Dog Park Part 4


With the exception of terribly inclement weather or illness, I take my dog to the off-leash dog park every night. I do this because I don’t have a yard, and other than walking her five miles a day (which I’m not likely to do because I’m lazy and who has time for that?), it’s really the only way she gets any exercise. Plus, the social interaction is important, since dogs are pack animals. Also, I’m a total sucker. Around 5:30 pm on any given day, my dog starts pacing. She won’t stop pacing until we go to the dog park.

Below are the rules posted on the gate of my dog park. They might as well be in Sumerian for all they’re read and adhered to. Today’s list of dog park people deals with violators of these rules.


Rule #1


There are many people who break this rule since navigating the dog park is like navigating a mine field where the mines are piles of crap instead of incendiary devices. Sometimes, your dog poops and you don’t notice it. It happens. This is when the people I call the Poop Patrol step in. They will let you know all about your dog’s poop. There always seems to be one member of the Poop Patrol on duty at any given time.

There’s one Poop Patroller at my dog park who speaks with a thick eastern European accent of some sort; possibly German, but I don’t want to presume. It seems she spends most of her time scanning for pooping dogs. Mid-poop, she will let you know you need to clean up after your dog by saying “You dog take a crap.” It sounds a lot like “you dowg tik a crep,” and then she’ll point to where the offending pile is. If you don’t immediately move to clean it up, she’ll repeat “you dowg tik a crep” until you do.

Rule #2


This one is probably the single most broken rule on the list. About half of the dogs at the park at any given time don’t have collars on for whatever reason. Out of the ones who are wearing collars, over half of those don’t have ID tags or licenses on them. I reckon less than 10% of all dogs that go to the dog park actually wear collars with license tags. My dog is part of that 10%.

One day, there was a dog loitering outside the gate without a human. Someone let him inside, because it was safer than having him wander the streets. He was wearing a collar and a leash, but there was no tag or license. What is the point of putting a collar on a dog if there’s no identifying information on it?

Almost an hour later, his owners showed up. They were moving from one apartment to another and had tied the dog to the fence, whereupon he Houdini’d his way loose.

If they had put an ID tag on him, we could have called and they would have had their dog back immediately. Instead, they drove around frantically looking for their dog for almost two hours.

Rule #6


I cannot even begin to tell you how many dog balls I’ve seen at the dog park. I’m sure there are a lot of female dogs who haven’t been spayed at the dog park, too, but they’re harder to spot what with the lack of dangly balls.

The reason for rule #6 is that a lot of times, spayed or neutered dogs don’t take kindly to dogs with balls. It riles them all up, and that’s how some dog fights start. Can you really blame them?

Anyway, bringing a dog with balls into the dog park is against the law, but people do it all the time. They don’t fix their dogs for any number of reasons. Often, it’s expense, laziness or ignorance. Sometimes, they intend to breed them, because we totally need more amateur breeders in the world.

A lot of times, they’re waiting for their dogs to get old enough to neuter them. The people in that last category think you shouldn’t neuter a dog until they’re at least a year old or older. I don’t know what the correct procedure for ball-choppage is, since it’s been a very long time since I had a male dog, but I know many male dogs who were neutered before a year old and their heads didn’t explode or anything. The animal shelter spayed my dog when she was a month old, which by all accounts is far too young, and she’s fine, too.

In any event, whatever your opinion on the right age to spay or neuter, please, do. Also, please, don’t bring your intact dog to the dog park, for his or her own safety, if nothing else.

Rule #7


Pffft. That’s funny.

My dog has a best friend who is almost her doppelgänger. Every time they’re there together, they play and they play hard. If you don’t know the dogs, you’d think they were actually trying to kill each other, but they’ve been playing like that for over two years and they love each other.

One day, my dog and her friend were playing when a stupid little Boston terrier decided he didn’t like their shenanigans and wanted to break it up. My dog is 70 lbs. Her best friend is over 80 lbs. The Boston terrier was small even for a Boston terrier. I’d say he wasn’t even 20 lbs. Derp.

So, this little shit went up to my much larger dog and bit her hind leg. My dog never starts a fight, but she’ll damn well finish one, so she went after the little shit. Look here, sir, I don’t appreciate you biting my leg when I’m playing with my friend. Kindly put your tiny head into my mouth, please.

In the process of trying to separate them, this happened:

One of these days, I'll figure out how to take a proper picture (not likely).
Like how the foreground is blurry while the background is in focus? I don’t even know how to do that on purpose. One of these days, I’ll figure out how to take a proper picture (not likely).

That’s the back of my ankle sporting a rather large bite wound from a little shit of a dog. That fucker bit me! That bite was through a pair of jeans. Thankfully, I was wearing jeans or it would have been a lot worse. He might have ripped my Achilles tendon instead of my pants.

Owner of little shit 1) didn’t even ask if I was alright, even though I was clearly bleeding 2) refused to exchange information with me 3) refused to prove that her dog was licensed and therefore, current on his vaccinations and rabies shot (of course, the dog wasn’t wearing a collar) and 4) ran the fuck away!

Quite literally, she scooped her dog up and ran away like the sissy girl with the sissy dog that she is. One of the dog park regulars ran after her and took a picture of her license plate. Ha!

Fortunately, my sister is a nurse, so she kept a close eye on it until it healed. It did leave a lovely scar. By the way, I was the only one injured in that fight.

Rule #8


This is the saddest rule that gets broken. I can think of at least three dogs who were found abandoned at the dog park.

One of the poor creatures had three broken legs. They figure someone dumped him on the street near the dog park–not even in, but near–and he got hit my a car. Fortunately for him, he was found by a really nice lady who fixed him up and kept him. He had to have major surgery and he will always walk with a limp, but he can walk, he’s still alive and he landed in the best possible home.

Two other dogs that I know of were adopted by dog park regulars who found them when inhuman scum dumped them there. I guess people are too afraid or lazy to drop animals at the shelter, so they leave them at the dog park. I suppose they reckon that people who come to the dog park are dog lovers, and therefore, they’re likely to take care of them, which as it turns out, is true, but that doesn’t make it right.


Part 1

Part 2

Part 3