"Before, You'd Brush Your Teeth, But Still Smell Like Anger"

Since my last post was unusually enjoyable to put together (imagine that, me wanting to talk about 90's rock ((or sports!)) i've decided to dedicate at least one more to someone i feel is deserving of a real haranguing. This is also an issue i've managed never to flip-flop on, unlike such infamous claims as:

a) i'll never eat guacamole so long as i live
or
b) oh, if i could only just sleep with that britney spears!

No, i've consistently disliked Carlos Santana for a good 20 years, and have never, never once, not ever so much as nodded my head in a hotel elevator or mongolian barbeque when "black magic woman" came on the radio. Santana was terrible enough leading up to the 1990's, but the album he put out at the end of the decade featuring "Smooth" with Rob Thomas really sealed the deal for me then and there. That song might go on my all-time most hated songs mixtape, to play when Bristol Palin is sworn in as president in the year 2040, or if the Royals ever move to a city like Albuquerque.


From there he went on to (successfully, now) collaborate with every other crappy artist under the stars, and received nothing but praise and money for doing so. Really, collaborations with Sean Paul, Everlast AND Nickelback? Really, America? All the while making headlines for doing things like curing bad breath by forgiving child molesters and being saved by christ from committing suicide 7 times.

Honestly, if you need to be saved 7 different times by Christ himself from killing yourself, how much confidence can you have going into your next solo that there isn't going to be an 8th? I feel for Carlos about as much as i miss O-Town. And Crazy Town. All the towns, really. Sugah. Baby.