Any man worth his weight in “manly things” knows that sometimes getting a lady home is just the beginning of a wild night. Even with the right chemistry, you could still find a way to screw up a “sure thing,” so with a little help from this handy guide, you’ll know which songs you need to remove from your iTunes playlists or home audio equipment immediately. You don’t want to be thisclose to sealing the deal and have “Baby Beluga” pop on the stereo, do you? If you don’t have kids, that might be especially hard to explain.

With this in mind, please check out this amazing list, 8 Songs Not to Shag To

Yeah, I know you think it’s ironic to play things from your childhood and chuckle. Bastardizing your childhood at the expense of a dollar isn’t cool (see the upcoming G.I. Joe movie for a prime example) and playing a song to prove just how “funny” illustrates only one thing: you have a very small penis.

If, in fact, we’re wrong and you have a huge crank, this makes it worse. See, this song is really, really, really bad; it makes us all want to vomit sort of bad. You’re going to try and hump to it? At one minute long, it’s probably all of the sex you deserve. Nice choice, Jerk.

“Now we’re sharing the same dream?” Honestly, as a kid, I was sure this song was about a woman trying to enter this glorious nation and she knew that this man, Billy Ocean (aka “Caribbean Coyote”), held the key to her freedom. Look at that awesome hair. Look at the majesty of his amazing sweater. That’s a seriously boss sweater, fit for a Miami Vice villain. You know what, if you have to bring a little Billy Ocean into the bedroom, sign an 8 x 10 photo to yourself from “Billy Ocean”. If your partner asks about it, just respond with “I know the Oceanator and, yes, he is as amazing as he sounds”.

True story: parts of the set at the end of this video were used in Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors.

True story: I was going to make a jheri curl joke just a moment ago and pussed out.

Okay, this song has a lot of meanings for me. In college, I had a female friend that played this stupid song every day 20-30 times. Despite our repeated requests and attempts to hide the disc, she never really told us why she liked it and always seemed to have a back-up copy to haunt us with. There are so many sad, hidden messages in the lyrics of this song; some heavy stuff. Like most listeners, our friend probably think connected with only a line or two (“And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone”) and there is no reason not to feel that way, unless your father is a drunk you might be touching you late at night and you want to steal away into the night with your loser boyfriend. Good plan!

In the end, the reason this song “works” has a lot to do with human emotion and our necessity for connection: who doesn’t want to love, be loved and feel like they have a value bigger than what they ever imagined possible?

That being said, if a woman ever puts this song on before she “mounts Burt for cash,” you need to run the fastest you have ever run straight out for the door or nearest window. Sure, you noticed earlier in the evening that she was a little too hot for you. You just thought that you were “on fire” tonight, didn’t you? You had “Stetson power”?

No.

She’s just super, super screwed up. Believe me, you need to run. This song should not come on before, during or even just after sex. If you had sex that day and she tries to turn this on, you’re either very mean to her or you are blood related.

Either way, you need to knock it off.

Man, this one bugs me. This song is so slow that you might as well masturbate with a boxing glove and a tube of Ben Gay. If this tune is playing, you’re not going to feel anything while it’s happening anyway.

One of the very first times I “got…it…on” was to this song and, let me tell you, if you try and have sex to this, you will have plenty of time to ponder where you went just wrong. How did you end up in this terrible relationship? If she died, would it rain a lot? I sure hoped not. What if the condom broke? Would you really want to have this chick in your life forever? Probably not. Right around the 6 minute mark, you’ll want to pull out and feign an orgasm. No reason to stop now, sailor boy, pound away like the man you think you are.

…God, I feel dirty thinking about it.

I miss college.

I want to go on record as having said that the only thing I hear when I get to the chorus is this: “Don’t let your son go down on me?”

Really George, you randy pervert, I had no idea. Honestly, that whole “trying to buy sex from homeless drug addicts by the public restroom” thing was blown way out of proportion. What’s really freaky to me? You were hanging out with all these beautiful young super models and were considered “super cool” as a result. How many dudes did you lure back to your place convinced that Linda Evangelista was coming out of the bathroom “at any minute”. If anyone actually fell for that trick, they got what they deserved. You never leave the party with a strange dude unless the hot chicks are already in tow. If you don’t confirm that, you could be vampire food.

Find the woman at the bar that is singing along to this tune whilst two-fisting a bottle of tequila and a frozen Margarita, with a pack of Pall Malls and penis shaped lighter wedged between her breasts and you know you’ve found this town’s “down to party” chick. Want a surefire way to contract an STD? Follow this little lady into the bathroom. If you’ve never had that “pissing razor blades” feeling, you’ve never lived, right?

(Side note: if you want to be freaky, hire a midget hooker. They know what’s up, they’ll never care that you really have no idea what her name is or if you want her to sing that “Lollipop Guild” track from Wizard of Oz)

Listen: if you can get off to the sounds of an almost half-ton man singing with only the gentle strumming of a ukulele to accompany him, you’re a real piece of work. Honestly, this song makes me think of only two things, ER and UFC Champion BJ Penn. Remember that scene from ER where Dr. Mark Greene goes out to Hawaii to surf and die? This is that song. To this day, the 700 hundred pound Kamakawiwo’ole’s frosty falsetto vocals destroy my mind. I can’t listen to this song without wanting to cry. Crying is NOT sexy.

It was freaky as a Judy Garland tune and it’s just plain morbid here. Please…don’t…shag to this.

If you’re old enough to remember when this song “first came out,” you shouldn’t be allowed to have sex anymore. I don’t care if that only puts you in your 50s or 60s, you sex life is just plain icky and wrong, In fact, while you convinced your parents that the Wilson Brothers put out wholesome music with a non-offensive sound, I know what’s really going on here.

This song is about an intentional vehicular homicide.

“My buddies and me are getting real well known/Yeah, the bad guys know us and they leave us alone,” right boys? Maybe they’re staying away because you just killed their family and drove around town with their loved one’s remains dangling from your bumper, you sick bastards. “Buddy” is the 1950 version of “that angry, ugly slang word that white folks can’t say”. Buddy? Eff you, pal.

We know that the Beach BoyZ were all about three things: gang warfare, smoking chronic and hanging out with the Manson Clan.

As a point of comparison, the version of the song below is much, much better and illustrates the good times and wholesome attitudes that surrounded it’s creation. You should definitely have sex to this:

You can thank me later!

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