So, first off? Apologies for being out a week. I know some people have no regard for posting with any regularity because they don’t care enough about their fans to keep them entertained, and then have the audacity to tell me that I will be writing on their blog for them! (I think he assumes it’ll be a total honor to do his dirty work for him, which it
totally will be is totally rude to assume totally will be, but don’t tell him that.) But I will discuss Patch’s transgressions in more depth on his own blog, because that’s the kind of classy lady I am. You didn’t come here to hear about that. You came to hear about how amazing I am, not him. (Except that he totally is, but if you tell him I said that, I will totally deny it.)
The reason I was out a week is that I was gardening last weekend, and I pinched a nerve that made typing (or breathing) extremely uncomfortable. I will not go into a billion paragraphs of explanation, because you can just read about it on my renovation blog and laugh at me if you’d like. (The renovation blog is probably just as funny as this blog is, which is like, only funny to me and my moms. But anyway, you can go there and read it if you care anything about my pain or the fruits of my labor or want to attempt to stalk me by finding out what my last name is in addition to my first name. You can try, followers, but you will not find me. Plus I have a gun. And a rottweiler. And my neighbor is a cop. Two of those things are true. You guess which ones.)
Anyway, so I pinched a nerve, and there was also some holiday I had to account for too (can’t remember which one. Oh yeah! National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day!), so you are only now just getting to see me post. Suck it up.
Let’s get to the point, alright? I’m at work today, on Black Friday, while everyone (and I do mean every. single. other. employee.) is at home. And I didn’t even wear jeans today. Why am I here? Apparently to catch up on my blog posts. I decide that, because I didn’t wear jeans, I was going to blast Pandora at full blast. So there, company.
For two solid songs, they played awesome stuff. I have a “Tool radio” station, which means that they should play Tool (favorite band of all time), as well as related songs (A Perfect Circle, Nine Inch Nails, Breaking Benjamin, Chevelle, etc). I was happy.
Then they played Staind. Really? I click “No sir, take this shit off my station.” Fine. Then it plays Apocalyptica, which is fine because I like “I Don’t Care” and their orchestral Tool covers. Except they play some random instrumental. Not a big deal, but I’m not into listening to a symphony right now, amirite? I want to listen to loud, angry, “fuck you for making me come to work the day after Thanksgiving and not even letting me wear jeans” music. So I say “No thank you” and it moves onto…Linkin Park. Probably one of my least favorite bands ever, and whatever this was, it was extra whiny. I’m starting to get angry, so I’m like “NO PANDORA, PLAY SOMETHING GOOD.” Then it plays a really terrible Godsmack song. What?! DISLIKE. It stops. Then it plays another effing instrumental off the Requiem for a Dream soundtrack. WHAT THE HELL, PANDORA. So now it’s becoming a vendetta. I just sit there, staring at Pandora, like Clint Eastwood in some western film.
And you know what this fucker did? IT PLAYED TOOL.
I was deflated, so I just stared at it for a few seconds, full-on stinkeye. Test me, Pandora. Test me. But sure enough, after that, it played Nine Inch Nails, and then Paramore, and I forgave it, minimizing it in the background to continue
working blogging. It lured me into a fall sense of security.
And then it played Nickelback.
I’m not using Pandora anymore.