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Unbelievably Strong by Ray Printer Friendly

I was at work the other day, and I heard that Sheryl Crow song, Strong Enough. It pissed me off.

I realize that this song has been out for years and years and years, and I realize that even when it was in its prime, it wasnít interesting enough to write about, but as I listened to the words, I just got really annoyed. So much so that I decided right then and there that I would be writing a post about what a shit Sheryl Crow is.

I think that sheís hooked up with Lance Armstrong at this point, and so Iím definitely taking a risk here, ranting about his woman and all, because last I heard, he lived in Austin. Thereís a good chance heíll show up at my door tomorrow with a rusty length of pipe for beating and a bottle of whiskey for courage, pissed off and wanting to take a piece of my ass home as a trophy. Because thatís just how the dude rolls. Donít let those yellow rubber bracelets fool youóLance Armstrongís a stone cold killa.

But I have my bottle of whiskey and my length of pipe tonight, so I just donít care.

The song is essentially this goofy broad ranting about what a lunatic she is, with a brief respite every now and again to challenge my manhood.

Like if I donít feel like dealing with her shit, Iím not man enough. What the hell is that? Hereís the first verse, according to LyricsDomain


God, I feel like hell tonight

Tears of rage I cannot fight

I'd be the last to help you understand

Are you strong enough to be my man?


Hereís what Iím getting out of all that rambling, Sher: youíre pissed off about whatever, and instead of dealing with it like rational human being, youíre gonna spend all night bawling and slamming dishes around. If I finally brake down and ask whatís the matter, youíre just going to tell me, ďNothingís wrong,Ē in a sulky voice that conveys the exact opposite of the words youíre using.

And if I donít feel like putting up with your bullshit, it means Iím not man enough to do so? Hmmm.


I make the rules up as I go

It's try and love me if you can

Are you strong enough to be my man?


This is like the third or fourth verse into the song, but if youíre actually listening to it, it seems like youíre a good two and a half hours in. By this point, sheís been carrying on about how she wants me to lie to herówhich I have absolutely no problem with. She promises that sheíll believe me. I can only assume she means lie to her about all the other not-so-crazy chicks Iíve been banging on the side because Sheryl has driven me out of the house, probably with a bottle of booze in one hand, a bottle of prescription antidepressants in the other, and a roll of dollar bills in my pocket that has a hot date with a strippers g-string.

But back to the above verse. Iím pretty sure that the entity at LyricsDomain screwed up a little here, because I think that second line goes, ďJust try to love me,Ē not ďitís.Ē Which is pretty much a moot point anyways, because I wonít try to love her, because I already know that I canít. Because did you read that first line? The one about how sheíll make the rules up as she goes?

I donít think so, chick. I mean, sure itís pretty much standard man/woman relationship contract that thereís always going to be a terrible double-standard: you can call names, but if I do it, Iím ďemotionally abusive;Ē you can slap me in the face when youíre pissed, but if I hit, Iím ďphysically abusive;Ē you can unplug my Playstation 2 right when Iím in the middle of a game, but if I kill your cat, Iím ďmentally disturbed.Ē

But you donít make the rules up as you go. Iím willing to be trained in exchange for nookie, but the rules stand. You start changing them, I get confused, and then thereís not really anywhere to go but the top story on national news, and I think we all know that the only way to get there is a bloodbath. You donít want that, Sheryl, you really donít.


When I've shown you that I just don't care

When I'm throwing punches in the air

When I'm broken down and I can't stand

Will you be strong enough to be my man? (actual lyrics are ďMan enough to be my manĒ)


As if crying wasnít bad enough, now youíre throwing a full-blown temper tantrum. Throwing punches in the air, probably laying there on the floor, hitting the floor with your hands and feet like some two-year-old on an old Bugs Bunny cartoon. Iím trying to pull you to your feet, but youíre all piss-drunk and throwing a fit, and youíve been yelling at me all night that you donít care about me, that you never cared about me, and about how Iím such a dirty sunuvabitch, and you could do so much better.

And you somehow have the stones to compare putting up with this shit as being ďmanĒ enough? Hereís the thing, Sheryl Crow: Being a real man in this situation would be holding back from knocking the shit out of you. Because make no mistake about itóby this point, you need a good asskickiní from somebody. Itís not gonna be me, because my mother raised me not to hit girls, but youíre obviously a spoiled, self-centered, crybaby that needs to either grow up or kill yourself. Iím man enough to restrain from beating you, but if you ask for anything more than that, youíre just pushing your luck.

Thank you for your time, and for all the wonderful music youíve brought to the world.


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