2005-10-05
Groove On, it's a crazy feeling.
Yesterday I got a used stereo for $20. It's hoss. It has all kinds of nutty flashing lights and, like, 4 functions... and a frickin' Tape Deck! Whoo! At long last I can heare ye olde mixe tapes agayne.
I hooked up this new lassie to the computaire and she works just fine. Lucky Duck. Since, as I arrived home with 'er after luggin' 'er across the city on busses and trains in a wire rolly cart, I realized that I happy-go-luckily, i.e. 'stupidly' didn't actually check to make sure the bugger worked, before handing over my grocery money and sweatin' my way home.
But she works it. Oh does she. The best part of the whole deal, though, is this little bouton that I found as I was looking for the 'Tape' function. It's... wait for it...
a "Groove" button. And when I push "Groove", the words "GROOVE ON" roll across the LCD screen.
Am I not the luckiest asshole ever?! Yes, yes I think I am. And, therefore, this reminds me, I can know that I am not eville. Because the cosmos that I believe in, though mysterious and glamorous in many ways, is not inclined to allow -- nay, command -- eville ones to groove.
So, suck on it, mean and jealous ones. Suck it long and suck it hard.
hahahahahahahahaha!
***
I had a great hors d'oeuvres idea the other day. Have a shrimp ring with hot sauce in the middle. Call it the Molotov Cocktail Ring. Wait. Is cocktail ring a thing? I know there's shrimp cocktail, right? Am I confusing shrimp rings and cock rings?
I need to talk out loud more. Good god. Don't let me suggest this hor doov to my mother.
pansycline at 6:39 p.m.