Pick one or two or all of them. Whatever floats your boat.
I’ve given you a selection, depending on which year brings you the bestest/worst memories. In other words, I’m fucking with you and enjoying every damn minute of it.
#1 Mr. Leo Sayer. Nothing says secksy more than a Jew-fro, white duds and an adenoid-killing falsetto.
#2 Mr. Cliff Richard.
I had the pre-teen lady bits shivers back in the day for him — way before Rex Smith and Andy Gibb ended up on my bedroom walls. Cliff paved the way for my Marcia Marcia Marcia/Davey Jones crushes. However, prior to Cliff, there was Elton but my heart was busticated when it was revealed to me that Reginald preferred peen. I still loved his music, but his love for all things male stopped me from planning our huge county club wedding. (side note: My first rock concert was Sir Elton at the now-defunct Chicago Stadium. KiKi Dee showed up too. Elton tossed piano benches into the audience. Got a contact high from the hairdos in front of us who were smokin’ doobies with their parents. I got gum in my hair. I was ten.)
#3 Rex Smith. One of my oldest friends on this rock, Heather, and I would spend hours listening to the dulcet tones of Rex in her bedroom in the large house her family owned in the woods of Wayne. Heather was SO lucky because she OWNED THE RECORD. I was in awe of her because of that, and well, many other things.
This is my fave MOW ever, and Heather, I’m SO gonna marry Rex Smith someday. You can be my maid of honor and throw rice at us as we speed away in Rex’s Camaro.
#4 Andy Gibb.
I loved him so much I even named my horse after one of his songs. Let’s see if you can guess which one. (Hint: It’s not the one below)
He wrote this song for me, you know.
#5 Brothers Johnson.
I love the tummy gurgling sounds at the beginning of this tune. Makes me wanna pee.
There ain’t anything better on Earth than classic R&B music.
#6 FUCK YOU.
Coming soon: The Daily Earworm: Ladies’ Night