So you think you’re ready to take your guitar skills to the next level? You’ve mastered Earth Angel and Free Falling so now you’ve decided it’s time to ramp up your game and learn some new chords. Well to that I say, “bring it.” Hi, I’m the B chord and I’m gonna fuck up your day. Fuck you.
I’m not your first bar chord, am I? I could tell you’ve strummed a few successful F’s by the cocky way your hands aren’t trembling. Do you really think you have what it takes to in those limp little cheese strings to play me? Just looking at those fall-off-the-bone wrists of yours is making me hungry. I’m gonna turn your tendons into tenderloin and serve them for brunch.
Everyone’s going to know what a mewling casual you are when I’m through with you. You should have stuck to busking in the nightlife district where you could play songs that stick to G, Em, A, and D. Cranking out “Don’t Stop Believin'” over and over for drunks who think you’re a guitar God was a great thing you had going there. It’s a shame you decided to ruin it by attempting to learn “Immigrant Song.” Huge mistake.
Just face it, this is where it ends for you. You’re never going to get me and I’m not even the hardest one. But at least you’ll never have to face Fsus4#5! She would fucking destroy you. But she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t even know you exist.