Everyone is entitled to their own personal choices in music. There are more than enough genres to satisfy hundreds of musical tastes. And that's a good thing. To a degree. I am not a fan of speed metal, country, bluegrass, hair bands, and did I mention any and all COUNTRY?? So if you are inclined to listen to your private collection of "Death Metal Pussy Lips" or "Cousin Redneck Lovers", have at it. Blast that shit till your ears bleed. If you can scrounge up a basement full of friends with permed mullets and acid wash jeans or Wrangler jeans and shit-kicker boots, even more power to you. It is only when the volume of your (shitty in my personal opinion) taste in music overflows onto the soundwaves of my OWN personal space, I take issue. Turn that fucking shit DOWN.
I recently walked 39.3 miles over the span of two days for the Avon Breast Cancer Walk. That is a lot of hours walking with thousands of women all over Chicago. Some ladies (and gentleman) took it upon themselves to become DJ's for the surrounding walkers. In a very vague way this in nice. But if their own mix of music does not please my ears and in fact makes me want to punch a baby, should said public mix perhaps be kept to themselves? I say FUCK YES. It would never happen that I would willingly walk into a country bar to listen to that type of music without someone drugging me, knocking me unconscious, and gagging me with a dirty sock. So why in God's name do you think I remotely want to hear your twangy, jingly-jangly "my man done me wrong" song sampler for as many miles as it takes me to speed up, pass you, and get within earshot of silence from your redneck remix?!!! The answer is I do not. So thank you for your generosity but save your inspirational jams for your own headphones or your roommate who will be paralyzed with blisters and dehydration after walking all those miles. She will either tolerate it because she is defenseless or suffocate you with her pillow as you slumber. I say sleep with one eye open, Shania.
Another musical sound violation I cannot fucking stand is when guys blast their booty jams and talentless rap with all the car windows down for everyone to enjoy. Typically offenders have some sort of SUV with obnoxious rims the size of a John Deere tractor. It looks like you bought the car from Toys 'R' Us and then went to the big boy car store for your wheels. You look like a huge asshole. And I think it's particularly classy when you have that ear-splitting bass cranked so high that my nipples vibrate when you are a parking lot away. No really, between your giant sparkly rims, your posse of 5 guy friends hanging out the windows, and that awesome music blaring, "Get up, bitch! Get up, bitch! Get up, bitch!" over and over it is a true conundrum as to why you cannot get laid. I am shocked you do not have a pussy posse lined up to carpool with you.
I know there's plenty of music I listen to which would annoy the shit out of some of you. (Cue Erasure, Yaz, Depeche Mode, and Abba now..) So I listen to it in my car, on my Ipod, or in my home or seek out places, parties, and dance clubs in which my own musical preferences are played. That's my prerogative. If you invite me into your home for a party and want to choose your own music, coolio. I can drink enough Patron to erase any memory of having to head bang or do the two step in your living room. If you are thinking about doing a bass-pumping drive-by and you notice me, be forewarned, I do not take kindly to this gesture. I will hunt you down and throw a flaming dog turn in the shape of a spinning tire rim into your open window. And no amount of Axe body spray, Kanye West shades, or "Get Up, Bitch" mega-mixes will rid you of the shame or odor. Roll up those windows and shut the fuck up.
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