IPOD: This is an ultimatum. Remove Call Me Maybe.
LIZ: no! Ipod, Call Me Maybe is a good running song.
IPOD: If you do not remove Call Me Maybe right now I will reveal all of your terrible music to the universe!
LIZ: Egad. betrayal and blackmail, what is next Ipod? how can you despise me so?
IPOD: 3....2....1....1/2...
AND NOW INTRODUCING: VARIOUS BLACKMAIL SUBSTANCE!
BROUGHT TO YOU BY LIZ'S IPOD (and the letter h for "ha ha Liz is a sucker")
My ipod is trash.
It is a very
private place.
If everyone saw the
contents of my ipod I would probably not have any friends.
I have 2 Nickleback
songs.
and Call me Maybe, as aforementioned.
It would probably
be a fascinating social experiment to take people's ipods by force
and play them on shuffle.
My friends would
probably all have “Friday night lectures from Thomas Aquinas
College's, “Catholic people and more Catholic people” lecture
series.
Or... “The
complete works of Aristotle on tape”
What lectures on a
Friday night? Yes sir. You heard me correctly. Lectures. Every other
Friday night. They are “mandatory” with hand quotes which
means that I attended approximately one during the entirety of
sophomore year.
But you know what?
We are 111th on Forbes' list of 650 colleges. With 350
students.
With no internet.
Did I have to
remind myself about that?
As a result of
living without the internet for four years I have some joke material
on Newton and Kant. Splendid.
In a spirit of
further self-revelation, my ipod is a fascinating combination of
musical soundtracks and songs that say mothercusser.
Whats that
mothercusser?
I found a squid
mothercusser!
It plays checkers
mothercusser.
Oedipus literally mothercusser.
That song would go
platinum baby.
Words in rap
songs should be about 50% swears. I find that if the percentage of
swears falls below about 50% music is no longer effective for causing
me to run faster or acquire comedic cartooning ideas.
My terrible taste
in music has some unfortunate side affects however, I frequently find
myself blurting out snippets of catchy stupid songs by Rianna, or
Lady Gaga, Katy Perry. Which is embarrassing when I am around people who I am trying to impress with my IQ (these people are people who do not know me).
When this happens I usually attempt to
convince people that my head receives radio waves... and therefore I
cant help it.
Anyway I am
totally cool with all that music, people are like “what rubbish
children listen to these days” but there is nothing like blasting
some meaningless pop music as you race back to school after having
happy hour margaritas, slightly attempting not to be late to evening
class, and slightly attempting not to go off the road.
It is a little
funny that these people consider themselves great artists, I mean
yeah they make stuff (like a lot of money) so they are artists...but
great artists? That is some powerful self delusion. If you are Rianna
and you think you are as good as Mozart...then, give me your money.
So there are some
confessions of a tweenage ipod.
Coming up next
week: some strange imitation Faust.
Sorry that there is just this truckload of text here, I was writing dance entertainment for school... please accept this libation
a picture of me as an elderly hick person:
PS. I have the
hampsterdance on my ipod. You guys remember that?
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