I dig Nick Cave, but subjecting other people to the music you like, like some enforced show and tell, is kinda, you know, the tiniest bit TOTALLY LAME.
Yeah....I don't think I've ever known somebody to develop an appreciation for a band by having it played loudly at them against their will.
Boyfriend and I were drunk off our ASSES last night. That's the only time we are occasionally somewhat shitty to each other.
The new house is about twice as big as this one, though, and I will have my own office! That is 40,000 kinds of awesome.
In the meantime, hangover.
Back in the winter of '01, things were going not-so-well with my soon-to-be ex-wife. (hyphenate much?) I had this great Onkyo stereo, and a killer set of Infinity's to go with it. Loud, this thing was the stuff of legend. This was Spinal Tap's "goes to eleven" in the flesh. I've since then upgraded and downsized for more clarity, but nevermind that.
My X got this bootleg disc from some asshole that I have a burning desire to harm, a very long disc of Reggae that was downloaded form Napster1, and fairly shitty quality. Live Marley, Bunny, all sorts of shit. I'm a music fan, and this was obscure shit, individual tracks that took him weeks to download to completion because everyone was on Dial-Up.
She played this fucking disc one too many times. Things were not good between us. I told her to turn it off, it was loud and static-y and it was fuckin' Reggae, I had had enough. She turned it down a hair, bopping around. I ejected the disc, scratched a deep groove from hole to edge on the corner of my stereo tuner, and put it back in. NOM NOM NOM NOM MON MON MON MON VARK VARK VARK VARK . Oh, now you want to turn it down? No, I think not. We listened to that for a while, good stuff.