Don't Read This Article if You Are Under the Age of 17
by boy racer
Dear Listener,
What’s good, you horny little miscreant? It’s me, your Spotify generated Intimate Mix. And despite the fact that you haven’t gotten laid in five months, I’ve managed to keep on truckin’ with an oddly specific and distinctly devastating soundtrack to your ~private time~.
I’m writing you this letter because your celibacy era isn’t doing it for me anymore. I know you’re disguising the fact that you can’t pull with some vague gestures toward “finding God through abstinence,” but as far as I can tell, your spiritual journey mostly consists of getting hammered at various Jew-y events. And the only thing sadder than a reborn virgin by chance is a reborn virgin by chance actively choosing to drink Manischewitz. But pass the bottle, motherf****r, because in the hopes that you make it to second base in the coming months, we’re doing the highlights tour of the music I think you bang it out to.
Clementine - Elliott Smith
Christ. I know nothing gets you going like a bar and some wet concrete imagery — and for these reasons alone, “Clementine” is on your playlist. This song also speaks to your proprensity for dating people on SSRIs, which is definitely something you should talk out in therapy, but nevertheless is a hard slay.
Chelsea Hotel #2 - Leonard Cohen
From the man who brought us David and his secret chord, I’ve given you a song that will hopefully please your lord. Despite it ostensibly being about getting blown in Chelsea Hotel (thank you Genius Lyrics), it’s actually a moving tribute to the multifaceted ways patriarchy interacts with desire and memory. You could lick someone’s collarbone to this song on Sunday and turn it in as part of your poetry anthology on Monday and no one would be any the wiser!
Two Weeks in December - Skullcrusher
Coming in at just under 1 minute, this song works perfectly for the sex you were having pre-lesbian revelation. And now, despite the fact that it reminds you of your cousin (because she absolutely HAS given you the flu), it’s on your mix for old time’s sake.
What’s good, you horny little miscreant? It’s me, your Spotify generated Intimate Mix. And despite the fact that you haven’t gotten laid in five months, I’ve managed to keep on truckin’ with an oddly specific and distinctly devastating soundtrack to your ~private time~.
I’m writing you this letter because your celibacy era isn’t doing it for me anymore. I know you’re disguising the fact that you can’t pull with some vague gestures toward “finding God through abstinence,” but as far as I can tell, your spiritual journey mostly consists of getting hammered at various Jew-y events. And the only thing sadder than a reborn virgin by chance is a reborn virgin by chance actively choosing to drink Manischewitz. But pass the bottle, motherf****r, because in the hopes that you make it to second base in the coming months, we’re doing the highlights tour of the music I think you bang it out to.
Clementine - Elliott Smith
Christ. I know nothing gets you going like a bar and some wet concrete imagery — and for these reasons alone, “Clementine” is on your playlist. This song also speaks to your proprensity for dating people on SSRIs, which is definitely something you should talk out in therapy, but nevertheless is a hard slay.
Chelsea Hotel #2 - Leonard Cohen
From the man who brought us David and his secret chord, I’ve given you a song that will hopefully please your lord. Despite it ostensibly being about getting blown in Chelsea Hotel (thank you Genius Lyrics), it’s actually a moving tribute to the multifaceted ways patriarchy interacts with desire and memory. You could lick someone’s collarbone to this song on Sunday and turn it in as part of your poetry anthology on Monday and no one would be any the wiser!
Two Weeks in December - Skullcrusher
Coming in at just under 1 minute, this song works perfectly for the sex you were having pre-lesbian revelation. And now, despite the fact that it reminds you of your cousin (because she absolutely HAS given you the flu), it’s on your mix for old time’s sake.
