First of all, I mean no offense to the tens of thousands of people who consider exiled Indian mystic, bestselling author, free love advocate, Rolls-Royce aficionado Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, also known as Osho, now deceased, as their guru.
That truth is divined earlier in "Motown" when the drummer Steve Jordan, the linchpin of the original "Late Night With David Letterman" band, assesses the Funk Brothers' contributions: "When these cats cut tracks -- and really, no offense to any of the great artists who sang on them -- Deputy Dawg could've sung on them and they would've been a hit".
No offense to collectors of maritime photography, but after a while it's pretty much the same idea: it's either sailors hoisting their caps in the air, jibs aflutter in a stiff wind or smoke churning out of a frigate's smokestacks, and it all just makes you want to thump your chest and sing "Blow the Man Down".
(No offense to Robert Downey Jr., of course).
No offense to hookers of course.
No offense to any of them as individuals, especially S.E.
No offense to "Edge of Tomorrow," but a person can only take so many Tom Cruises in one Oscar-averse calendar.
"No offense to some of the sciences and humanities and whatnot," Hawes said, "but it's not really my passion or proved to be that helpful later on in life".
No offense to any of these artists (besides Flo-Rida, I fully mean to offend you), but these songs definitely need to be punished and shown to the gates of Hades where they will have ample time to think about what they've done.
I say this with absolutely no offense to all of my dear friends out there who are working corporate jobs (I love you guys) -- but rather, I am saying that the "corporate life" or living the "American Dream" is not for me.
