Stutter like your daddy

It was a cold day at Universal Republic Records when Jay-Z proclaimed the “Death of Auto-Tune.” T-Pain ran up the spine of the company execs as they readied their latest single, Jay Sean’s “Down,” for mass release. The song showcases auto-tune like never before, as Jay Sean’s synthetic riffing assures the listener that “even though the sky is falling down” luscious booties will still be dropped. “Down” even features a robotic rap verse by Lil’ Wayne that compares fellatio to the economic recession.

Thankfully a brilliant A&R intern was there to brighten up the office.

“Auto-tune may be dead, but the stutter is as alive as ever.”

Surely, stuttering could not be enjoyed by the masses, otherwise speech therapists would be out of luck. But looking back on a summer’s worth of jams, the death of auto-tune did bring the birth of the stutter.

Lady Gaga may be batshit crazy, but she understands that p-p-p-people love p-p-puckering up their lips and spraying their dance partners with saliva and the occasional p-p-projectile vomit on the dance floor. Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol. But that better not be B-b-bacardi 151, otherwise that mess might cause some fire burning on the dance floor, “w-o-o-ah-oooh.” And fire might get in the way of your intricate plans for a birthday filled with sex, girl you know I-I-oy. P-p-projectile vomit does not equal the “best day of the year, girl.”

Which is why when you’re down, you need to get d-ow-ow-ow-ow-own. Otherwise, you’re just moping on the dance floor. And that shit is morbid.

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