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  1. no eff eks
    This is something I wrote in around October of 2011... it's loosely based on reality. I am a total spazz/crybaby, I did run over a cassette adapter out of anger, and it is not the last one I've destroyed (turned out the last one wasn't even broken, I was just an idiot). Anyway, I hope you like my manifesto!



    Exercise in Irreverence

    The past week I’ve been without music in my car as I dash around residential streets bringing joy to stoned college students one sandwich at a time... I usually have my iphone plugged into the cassette player with one of those fancy headphone-to-cassette adapter things you probably remember from 10-15 years ago. Since the iphone is made by Apple it was designed to be annoyingly incompatible with anything that isn’t making money for Apple... that includes headphone jacks apparently. You have to buy a specially shaped kind of headphone jack in order to have it work properly with my phone/case.

    So after spending $30 for a piece of technology that was cutting edge when I was 5, and that must have cost a whole 10-20 cents to produce, this little turd breaks after a mere 2 months of use/abuse. I’ll admit I put my portable music equipment through some intense use. ~30 hours a week of actual use, plus all the times it gets unplugged/plugged in when I have to make calls or throw the phone against the door in anger. The sandwich delivery game is only for those prepared to live raw and real like a fuckin gangsta, and I expect no less out of my phones/other electronic devices.

    This cassette adapter was weak, and in this game that’s a one-way ticket to a body bag. First I grabbed onto the misbehaving adapter by the headphone jack. I grabbed it hard. Then I ripped the mother fucker’s head off! … “Fuck, now I don’t have any more music” I said. Then I reflected on how badass it was for me to just rip that thing in two like that (one end still in the cassette player, the other in the phone, frayed wires sparking occasionally)... it was for the best I decided. I eject the tape part and throw it on the moving ground as hard as I can. The clatter of the plastic wasn’t as satisfying as I’d hoped (ever thrown a beer bottle out of a moving car? I wanted that sound - the sound of utter destruction).

    I slam on the brakes abruptly stopping the car... The tires squeal and the admirable 4-cylinder engine roars to life as I back up to give that malfunctioning son-of-a-bitch a taste of rubber. I miss. Try again - this time I can see where I need to aim the round crushy part of the car. As I hear/feel the little plastic tape explode under the weight of the car my heart fills with joy and I light a cigarette. It takes a special kind of badass to pull off those kinds of maneuvers, but for me it’s just instinct after years of training under masters of the trade (masters like: skinny dude that made me cry, fat dude that made me uncomfortable, creepy dude that had a dozen kids yet worked for less than $10/hr and somehow owned his own home and I can’t even get a fucking $100 credit card at Best Buy, stoner guy from moose lake, stoner guy from minneapolis, stoner guy from duluth, and (who could forget) that mean/arrogant/sorta ugly girl from superior)...

    I fee like we’re getting side-tracked, let’s ease back into what I was trying to tell you in the first place...

    In order to keep up the proper 10-20mph over the speed limit that any responsible driver maintains I listen to extremely fast punk-rock, preferably played loud with the windows down so everyone nearby knows how awesome my musical taste is. My car’s front speakers are blown, but the rear two are fucking tenacious. Those two give every bit of their 24 brutal watts of power to keep me motivated, content, and angry as I drive with utter disregard for traffic signals, pedestrians, other drivers, pigeons, and (most of all) emergency vehicles... all to get an overpriced sandwich to another “highly” unmotivated, yet hungry, 20-something. Then off I go into the night to find my next adventure. I sure hope the next one has more ninjas.

    Anyway, since my tape adapter thing broke I’ve been listening to NPR in hopes their smarts would rub off on me. After about 50 hours of listening I don’t problem remember half are?

    pow

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