Yesterday, we insulted Jon Secada. Today, he will have his revenge
Mellowmas
Random plurals, a synth banjo, and screaming — yes, it’s Mellowmas
It’s Horst and Sharon Hartung’s world, and we’re just living in it
In today’s installment, we travel to the corner of Aqua Net and Sadness, where we meet a gentle-eyed Hallmark salesman
Andrea Bocelli can sing whatever he wants. But that doesn’t always mean he should
Because nothing says the holidays like a teen idol, a comically oversized bow, and line after line of dick jokes
In today’s installment, we travel back in Mellow time and get O’Sullivaned
It places the gospel in the Cracker Barrel, or it gets the beard again
Does omnipotence give Santa an unfair advantage with the ladies? We investigate
Modern holiday hymn, or fart joke? This Mellowmas, you don’t have to choose
It’s inappropriate. It’s borderline racist. It’s Mellowmas
Now here’s a little story we got to tell / About two bad brothers at the gates of Mell
Jeff and Jason mock a boy band, and then the unthinkable happens
Appropriate for neither daydream believers nor homecoming queens
Donnie Iris robot voices we have heard on high
Does this look like Christmas to you? No? Well, it doesn’t sound like it either
In the meadow he can build a snowman, if you know what we mean
Tommy James gives praise to drum machines or Jesus, whichever returneth first
She’s laughing because she hears the bells, except there aren’t any
As it turns out, Santa has a bit of a drinking problem
Grab your ukulele and your vintage dress, because it’s time for She and Him
In which Justin Bieber raps about homelessness, and Busta Rhymes works off his gambling debts
In which this washed-up group of ding dongs lures Dolly Parton into the studio for Mellowmas misery
Friends don’t let friends visit sites called Old Christian Music
This man would like to sing to you about his Ding-A-Ling
On the eighth day of Mellowmas, we got our first real six-string