In which we are most politically incorrect...
We are out running errands and I am surfing SiriusXM in search of a good song. There is, unusually for them, a plethora of terrible things on the airwaves. Things like Pearl Jam and Depeche Mode. I find something tolerable (Gorillaz) but all too soon, the song gives way to something new that I've never heard before.
Me: What the hell is this crap?
Alan: (looking disgusted) I don't know, but whatever it is, change it. It sounds gay.
Me: [pushing channel buttons, not even bothering with the info button that would have told us title and artist]
Alan: And not gay in a good way, like coming over and redecorating your house, and helping you match clothes when you don't have a girlfriend. Bad gay, like talking all the time about the hot sex with his boyfriend.
Me: And then getting all whiny and depressed because they broke up, and staying way too late at your house crying into his wine cooler.
Alan: Exactly!
(I find Metallica. Our world makes sense again.)
We are out running errands and I am surfing SiriusXM in search of a good song. There is, unusually for them, a plethora of terrible things on the airwaves. Things like Pearl Jam and Depeche Mode. I find something tolerable (Gorillaz) but all too soon, the song gives way to something new that I've never heard before.
Me: What the hell is this crap?
Alan: (looking disgusted) I don't know, but whatever it is, change it. It sounds gay.
Me: [pushing channel buttons, not even bothering with the info button that would have told us title and artist]
Alan: And not gay in a good way, like coming over and redecorating your house, and helping you match clothes when you don't have a girlfriend. Bad gay, like talking all the time about the hot sex with his boyfriend.
Me: And then getting all whiny and depressed because they broke up, and staying way too late at your house crying into his wine cooler.
Alan: Exactly!
(I find Metallica. Our world makes sense again.)
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