I was seven years old when Olivia Newton John’s “Physical” hit the airwaves, and I danced my little butt off to it. It was an opportunity to choreograph yet another elaborate, spastic dance routine with which to mortify my parents at family gatherings; it had absolutely nothing to do with sex (since I was seven, after all).
So lines like this were totally lost on me: I took you to an intimate restaurant / Then to a suggestive movie / There’s nothing left to talk about / Unless it’s horizontally. When I still didn’t get it, she leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in my ear: “Because it’s about sex.” By then I knew what sex was, technically speaking, but I considered it some amorphous adult activity that held very little interest for me at that point, boys still being duly classified as “gross” and decisively cootie-fied.
Warrant’s “Cherry Pie” is absolutely no exception; the entire song is basically a litany of thinly veiled sexual references.
Milder lyrics in the song include: I really wanna, wanna see ya, wanna see you explode right now whoa!
In case you need another excuse to order a burger over a salad: Researchers found a total of 146 different kinds of pesticides among their samples.
And because pesticide residue doesn't just stick around on the surface of your fruits and veggies — it gets all up inside of them — even discarding the peel might not protect you.
I didn’t know what “horizontally” meant, geometrically speaking, let alone its sexual subtexts. But it wasn’t long until I got to be thirteen, fourteen, fifteen—and then I started to get what “Physical” and a host of other songs were really talking about.
So imagine my confusion a couple of years later when my friend Margaret confided in me that her parents wouldn’t let her listen to Olivia Newton John, among various other shocking artists. “Too Darn Hot,” by Cole Porter Many people have a (mistaken) tendency to think that music that was produced before 1969 was all innocent, sappy tunes about love and romance and getting married.
It should be noted that the infamous line Squeeze my lemon till the juice runs down my leg was borrowed from Delta blues legend Robert Johnson, who, in the tradition of blues music, probably borrowed it from Arthur Mc Kay’s song “She Squeezed My Lemon.” “Candy Shop,” by 50 Cent “I attempted to be as sexual as possible, from a male perspective, without being vulgar or obscene,” said 50 Cent of his MTV Award–nominated song “Candy Shop.” With lyrics like this, it’s safe to say he managed to be as sexual as possible.