We listen to the radio all day at work. We only get this one station - Star 108 - which is the musical equivalent to being served an anchovy pizza quiche with cheap chardonnay and salad. A little bit of good stuff thrown in with a bunch of crap. Like a few minutes ago they were playing Train's "Drops of Jupiter" which is a fairly cool song, right? Well, now that damn thing is belting out some chick song with "how can I live without you" repeated about fifty times. Puke.
Ok, so I admit it: I'm a musical snob. But do you - can you - understand the pain involved with endless cycles of REO Speedwagon, Mariah Carey and Phil Collins?!?! Not that those bands didn't have a good song or two (if you like that kind of stuff, which I don't). But let's face it, primarily their music was a little bit of good stuff thrown in with a bunch of crap. You know, that old industry-driven attempt to write another hit that merely results in sentimental rock-ballad drivel? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. That cheesy 80s rock. That pathetic 90s music to whine to. Just a bunch of freakin cheez and whine.
But back to the important stuff - my pain. Listening to this radio station all day is like an eight-hour equivalent of being in the gas station with that bad song blaring that gets stuck like effing super glue in your brain. A few days ago I woke up with the following song drifting through my head:
I wanne be your man in motion
Underneath the aerial quee
St. Elmo's Fi-yi-ya!
I don't even know the freaking words and it was stuck in my head! Primal scream! Primal scream! Today I was actually singing - actually freaking singing "If you wanna be my lover, da-da-da-dadada-mmthing." Repeatedly.
Just kill me now.