WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS FREAKING WEIRD BILLY IDOL SONG

I have two basic beliefs that center me:

1.) Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney's "The Girl is Mine" is the worst fucking song in the universe.

"The doggone girl is mine?" Doggone? Really? Who the fuck are you people, the Berenstain Bears? Is the girl Sister Bear? Because if so that makes this song, which is already incredibly creepy and unbelievable, even creepier and more unbelievable*. This song is on the same damn album as "Billie Jean," "Thriller," and "Beat It," and it still blows.

*Things I am more prepared to believe in than Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney fighting over a real, human woman:

- Raelians

- Raelians who like this song

- Goodfellas' Henry Hill's babysitter Lois being responsible enough to handle being a drug courier when she was like, 300% focused on her stupid hat

- The existence of northern Virginia

- Gluten-free cake

- Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney teaming up to fight off a motorcycle gang only using their fists and their wits

2.) We do not talk nearly enough about Billy Idol's "Love Calling."

Guys, I've been alive for long enough to know when I am out of my depth. I barely passed Statistics 350, I do that thing where someone says something and I say "well actually" because I am a douchebag, and I have absolutely no idea what this song is about. And yet read the comments on this song: "The most versatile rocker ever. Modern-day Elvis. Actually better." "Nobody can make music like this other than Idol, Stevens, and Forsey. What a great combination. Nobody has the guts to be so creative nowadays." Not one person asking the real question:

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SONG SUPPOSED TO FUCKING MEAN?

Song man dreams for you
Moves his clapping space
Turns us into snakes
Hot hits
And the blue moon move, move, move
Move until we die
Move until she cries
If you wanna rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub
If you wanna rub-a-dub, dub love
Love calling, love calling
If you wanna rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub
If you wanna rub-a-dub, dub love
Love calling
Oo baby rock on

I'm sorry, what? Look, I'm all about a plaintive ode to masturbation but why are we turning into snakes? Can you die, and then cry? If you die and then cry, what happens? Am I calling someone with the intention of rub-a-dub-dub loving? Is this like a weird Billy Idol escort service? Could I ask him questions, like "why do people refer to you as punk-rock when I own two of your albums and you are definitively not punk rock but you do have bitchin' hair"? Could I request he simply play "Mony Mony" until I get tired of it? Would he mind that that would take at least six months? Would he then explain to me why feeling like a pony and feeling alright would be similar? Not to get all Adam Jacobi, but I don't necessarily want to - oh wait, I just googled it, it's "ride your pony" not "like a pony" but wait, who is the pony in this situation? Is this girl a pony? Is this "Pony"'s ancestor? Is this like the homo habilis to "Pony"'s homo sapiens? Am I the first person to make an evolution joke about "Mony Mony?"

Sun goes down I rise
Red hair flames so bright
Iced gin breaks the night
Steal into her mind
Walk without a sound
Fire in the mountains now
If you wanna rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub
If you wanna rub-a-dub, dub love
Love calling, love calling
If you wanna rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub
If you wanna rub-a-dub, dub love
Love calling