It appears I may have struck a bit of a nerve last week when Lisa Morrison and I ran down our very own list of bad songs, inspired by Blender magazine's list.

I must confess to feeling a bit old, though. One of the younger copy editors was kind enough to go over last week's column for me before publication, and she'd never even HEARD of "MacArthur Park" or "Undercover Angel," and remembered "Don't Worry, Be Happy" from her middle-school dances.

*groan* Pardon me while I oil the hinges on my walker and make sure my Geritol supply is sufficient.

"MLZ" from Toronto, perhaps put the notion of what bad songs can do best: "These songs immediately put me in a foul mood. I can't even stand to listen to them as a joke." He named "Chuck E's In Love" by Rickie Lee Jones, "Midnight At The Oasis" by Maria Muldaur and "I Honestly Love You" by Olivia Newton-John, among others, as his quease-inducing favorites.

Ms. Muldaur was named by a number of respondents who apparently spent FAR too much time hanging around cocktail lounges during the Shag Carpet Decade (the '70s). "Midnight At The Oasis" is one of those songs that will immediately load into the mental CD player and start running ... the only problem is that all I remember of it is the refrain that repeats the title over and over. Just typing this paragraph, I've begun to sweat profusely and ponder what I'm going to get from the liquor cabinet to make the singing stop.

The song that didn't make our list that easily got the most votes was "Yummy, Yummy, Yummy (I Got Love In My Tummy)" by the Ohio Express. I always figured it for Hannibal Lecter's ode to an ex-girlfriend, but apparently it is actually intended to be a traditional love song. That's frightening. I don't think I want to meet the couple who choose this song as the first one at their wedding reception. Thanks to Kathy Posey, among others, for reminding me of it.

And let's not forget that paean to furry romance, "Muskrat Love," by the Captain and Tennille. At one time, it was impossible to walk more than 50 yards without encountering this song being played somewhere. It didn't take long for me to start fantasizing about seeing Muskrat Suzy and Muskrat Sam meet Wolverine Matilda and get ripped to bloody shreds.

And what, exactly, was he the "Captain" of, anyway? Any clue?

When it comes to depressing songs, I have to confess to having missed one of the grand champions of all time, brought to my attention by Alert Reader Gary B.: "Seasons In The Sun" by Terry Jacks. The most insidious thing about this ditty is that it SOUNDS fairly cheerful ... the sort of song you might find yourself whistling on a sunny day with a cold beverage at hand while watching Evil Squirrels chewing through power lines. Then you start paying attention to the lyrics, and the next thing you know you're locked in your closet putting on black fingernail polish and weaving a noose from kite twine.

The most unexpected nomination to the list came from A. Stelzer, who nominated the live version of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird" for consideration. She said her version of hell would involve that song played on continuous loop.

That rumble you heard was the entire state of Alabama heading for the Stelzer house simultaneously. It takes guts to criticize the wild-eyed Southern boys and their notoriously fervent fans.

Personally, I've always been a "Gimme Three Steps" man myself. Let's just say it reminds me of my younger days.

But enough of these musical meanderings. Let's see what the Weird nets have dragged up from the newsmuck this week.

Hot, Fresh And Busted

This has to be THE story of the year thus far for the "Big Brother is watching us" folks: Missouri police are pondering getting hold of the customer lists from pizza joints to try and track down people who have outstanding warrants or owe fines and court fees.

The rationale here is solid: while folks may use fake addresses on their driver's licenses or voter registration cards, everyone wants to make sure the pizza man can find them readily.

The privacy issue bothers me a little, though. What if they don't stop at Pizza Hut? What if they go after the video store next? I don't want to get hauled into court for an old traffic ticket and have my rental slip for "Latex Vixens IV" entered into evidence.

I'm kidding, of course. I would never rent movies like that. I only rent movies starring either Julie Andrews or Cary Grant. Honest. Believe me?

Hey, Mister, Leave That Squirrel Alone!

It appears the Evil Squirrel takeover of our legal system has begun. A man in Council Bluffs, Iowa, was arrested under an old law which forbids annoying black squirrels. The charge states that Billy Cates allegedly "did release his animal with the intent to annoy, worry, maim, injure or kill the squirrel."

Don't get me wrong, I am in NO way a fan of animal cruelty. When I read news stories about people abusing animals, my first impulse is to load up a shotgun full of rock salt and go hinder hunting.

What troubles me is that the ordinance specifically mentions black squirrels ... not cats, not dogs, not ferrets or any of the myriad other urban wildlife one might think would be covered. It's a tree rat-exclusive law.

What next? Are we going to have picnic tables at the park set aside for squirrels only? Will each bag of peanuts I buy come with a hidden hole that will drop a "squirrel tax" of nuts onto the sidewalk as I leave the store? During winter, will I be forced to give shelter to squirrels in need and spend the dark months cleaning nut hulls out of the carpet?

Write to your congressmen!

And, more importantly, Write to me. Professions of undying love and large cash grants are gratefully accepted.