Why is my music swearing at me?

I mean, there’s no shortage of people out there who wouldn’t let too much propriety get in the way of directing a fairly robust stream of profanity my way.  But this is different.  This is supposed to be a respite from the hurly burly.  A place where I can go to get away from the whole thing, the grind, the acrimony, the recriminations. You know, Town Council.

Many people fall back on their music.  They wake up to their tunes, breakfast, lunch, and dinner with their tunes, take their tunes for a walk, drive everywhere with their tunes.

For most of us, it’s our safe place.  Our special spot.  A place to go, to indulge in one of the seemingly few pleasures of modern life.

Then GAYLE told me to go f**k myself.

Continue reading “POTTY TUNES THE NEW NORMAL” →