20th Century music by the male of the species is loaded with wimpy blue pill sentiments. No doubt it provided subconscious reinforcement to the message drilled into us from parents, sisters, and the culture overall.

So why am I picking on the King of the Slide Guitar today? Especially with so many more blatant examples to choose from. Well, you could accuse me of just wanting to hear that Delta slide one more time, and you’d be partially right. But there’s something to be learned from identifying such blue pill wussery in a musical genre that gave the world such over-the-top paragons of machismo as Muddy Waters and Bo Diddley.

What we have in these lyrics is a self-deluded beta orbiter, pissing his life away waiting to graduate from the Friend Zone while the object of his one-itus serves as a willing doormat for some alpha dog out sowing his oats.

What this guy has done is become the emotional dishrag for the slut on his pedestal. He cleans up the messes made by the alpha dog, and once her emotional wounds are healed, her hypergamy leads her right back to the player’s harem. And she “loves him more” every time he wrecks her self esteem.

This song reminds me of a depressing ’80s titty flick called The Last American Virgin. Classic alpha fux/beta bux story.

Y’know what’s even more depressing? The slut might finally marry this frustrated chump one day. That’s when his heartache will really begin.