The terror of 80's power ballads.

I made this blog because Alex Noonan who runs http://www.onwardstothehorrorshow.com/ told me to(You should go read that by the way; It's better than this). I haven't a clue what a blog is supposed to be about so I have decided to tell the tale of why I can no longer listen to "I want to know what love is" by 80's band Foreigner without gagging.

Please note: All names have been changed to protect the guilty.

A few years back I lived in Cavan. A town which oddly enough is in the County of Cavan. I spent quite a bit of time in my friend Carl's (I'd use his real name but if I ever feel inclined to post anything more he might come up again in a less than savoury anecdote.) house just down the road. Carl had a housemate that was older than us who I shall from now on refer to as Ronald. Ronald was American and a veteran of the first Gulf War. He was also an alcoholic.

Ronald was in the habit of bringing a large woman in her late forties home to the house for some sexy rumpus (His words, not mine). We called this woman "The Beast". When Ron and the Beast were in the throes of drunken passion it was not uncommon to hear the strains of "I want to know what love is" from behind the door. This was an endless source of amusement to Carl and I.

One night I was over watching a film. The film was probably Commando. About halfway through the film Ronald struts into the room wearing nothing but a hoodie around his waist. He had the sleeves tied around the back to conceal his junk, however, there was a noticeable tent in front. He strode into the kitchen and proceeded to root around in all of the cupboards for a good four or five minutes.

After the above time elapsed Carl's curiosity got the best of him and he asked what Ronald was looking for. "Cooking Oil" was the response. Carl's rebuttal: "We don't have any at the moment. What are you planning on cooking at this hour anyway?". "I'm not cooking. I'm gonna fist her in the ass" was Ronald's reply that sent me and Carl into hysterical laughter.

While me and Carl were laughing, Ronald grabbed a mug, opened the lid of the deep fat fryer and helped himself to a large cup of used cooking oil that had been sitting there for months and headed back upstairs. Me and Carl's stunned silence was interrupted by Foreigner's classic ballad. To this day that song reminds me of unattractive people involved in depraved sex acts that smell like a chipper.