This video was dubbed on YouTube as "the worst music video ever." After watching it roughly seven times, it has kind of become my anthem. It's like the modern day version of Aretha Franklin's "Respect," or something. And lucky for you, I have transcribed the happenings of the entire 4:18 of this diamond in the rough. YOU ARE WELCOME, world.
The first 30 seconds of this mess looks like an opening for a really, really, sh*tty Chicago-based soap opera. Then we see our heroine, looking most reminiscent of a younger, blonder, George Costanza's mother. In the next shot, we really get to see what homegirl is working with, and let me clue you in, sister, those pants are atrocious. It's like FUPAs were breeding with more FUPAs up in there. If it were legal to burn whatever material that makes up those pants, I would highly suggest it. After ANOTHER long shot of the Chicago skyline, our eyes can feast upon the romantic lead of the story. Now, we KNOW that he's a bad boy, because not only is he leather-clad and mulleted, but HE PARKS HIS MOTORCYCLE IN A "NO PARKING" AREA. Swoon city, party of one! Amiright?!? It's time of a little backstory -- we get a vignette of them walking together in matching outfits, with matching, puffy ass hair, and waving to pretend friends (adoring fans?), then riding off into the
P.S. I just saw that Darla's name is really Jan. I'm going to suggest that you go ahead and change that, Jan. It's Darla, now.