Daniel's an inspiring guy.
Today, a fellow blogger said that his mission was to listen to an album everyday--and not the shit that he would listen to normally, rather stuff he had packed away for long enough periods of time where grandpa brown recluses were reading bedtime stories to their offspring's offspring about the big rat that got away one night upon a copy ofAnimals(although, the old spider concludes, to everyone's relief, that the rodent got what he had comin').
So . . . maybe if I pushed myself to excrete a little shart of writing everyday--just a tiny nugget, mind you--I would be able to hopefully transform myself into a better writer. Of course, the nugget ain't shit unless it packs some potency (I mean really stench-ridden on this one), so maybe I should take time to jot about something that everyone hates.
People with iPods.
Okay, a bit extreme there because I, of course, have one to back up all my music files, even though everyone knows I'm the stickler who would rebuy a record that got stolen, broken, lost, conned out of, swindled, et cetera.
But what about those people who bring their iPods to work out with at gyms and listen to soft rock. WTF? Who the fuck wants to listen to soft rock, pop, or r&b when running 3 miles? They could listen to some crappy anthemic rock (Eye of the Tiger, which is the cliche if you're from the 80s), shitty metalcore (which would make you so angry about the position of music today that if would force you to get pumped up enough to go drive 500 miles out of your way on a random college roadtrip so you could go to every member of that band's house and personally give each one an ass-kicking 'that will never be forgot [sic]'), or even rap (I mean, what's angrier than songs about shooting heroin, raping women, and shooting yourself to forget it all? None. 'None more black.').
But these people insist on listening to their Celine Dion while on the treadmill because they feel it inspires them to walk forever. This is "music" from the same "artist" that inspired Leonardo DiCabriolet to hurl himself from that big ship into the fucking freezing glacier water and die an icy death. It's like getting a fly in your Coca-Cola and instead of helping set him free, you keep stirring the carbonated beverage so the little bastard who ruined your drink will pay with his life that would have probably already been cut short by the cat on the kitchen counter anyway. So are you doing him a favor, or torturing the poor insect?
So . . . maybe if I pushed myself to excrete a little shart of writing everyday--just a tiny nugget, mind you--I would be able to hopefully transform myself into a better writer. Of course, the nugget ain't shit unless it packs some potency (I mean really stench-ridden on this one), so maybe I should take time to jot about something that everyone hates.
People with iPods.
Okay, a bit extreme there because I, of course, have one to back up all my music files, even though everyone knows I'm the stickler who would rebuy a record that got stolen, broken, lost, conned out of, swindled, et cetera.
But what about those people who bring their iPods to work out with at gyms and listen to soft rock. WTF? Who the fuck wants to listen to soft rock, pop, or r&b when running 3 miles? They could listen to some crappy anthemic rock (Eye of the Tiger, which is the cliche if you're from the 80s), shitty metalcore (which would make you so angry about the position of music today that if would force you to get pumped up enough to go drive 500 miles out of your way on a random college roadtrip so you could go to every member of that band's house and personally give each one an ass-kicking 'that will never be forgot [sic]'), or even rap (I mean, what's angrier than songs about shooting heroin, raping women, and shooting yourself to forget it all? None. 'None more black.').
But these people insist on listening to their Celine Dion while on the treadmill because they feel it inspires them to walk forever. This is "music" from the same "artist" that inspired Leonardo DiCabriolet to hurl himself from that big ship into the fucking freezing glacier water and die an icy death. It's like getting a fly in your Coca-Cola and instead of helping set him free, you keep stirring the carbonated beverage so the little bastard who ruined your drink will pay with his life that would have probably already been cut short by the cat on the kitchen counter anyway. So are you doing him a favor, or torturing the poor insect?
posted by Peter Landis at 12:58 PM
4 Comments:
What the fuck are you talking about?
You went from insects to Spinal tap references to ripping me off ("that will never be forgot [sic}" is that me? i don't remember but that sentence is grammatically correct i think) to the Titanic back to insects. Amazing.
But yeah iPods suck the shit.
Acid is a hell of a drug.
And that last quote was from V for Vendetta.
Keep posting dude. I promise I want accuse you of ripping me off anymore; I had a severe case of egomainia that day.
WTF???
Speaking of people . . .
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