smooth jazz

I hate smooth jazz...no, hate isn't a strong enough word. It grates on my soul until I want to poke ice picks through my eardrums. My roommates boyfriend, who owns the house that I am staying in, is cracked out on smooth jazz.He has a system that pumps that shite into every orafice of the home and head. And to top it off the guy is a door slammer. He doesn't walk, he charges. The combo of bad tunes and door slamming has left my nerves frazzled. Yesterday when I saw him with his bags I felt a wave of relief. The reign of terror was coming to an end.

I have been wearing ear plugs just to dull the pain. until yesterday, when he left for Alaska for 6 months.

I love music. I love music that makes me think,music that makes me move, music that is pretty...smooth jazz takes all of that out and adds Kenny G. I mean, a Celine Dion soundtrack hit is marginal to begin with, but as annoying as that woman's warbling is, some fucknut's jazz stylings of "My Heart Will Go On" is infinitely more sinister.It is aural terrorism.

A smooth jazz station is a concentration camp for the art and beauty and music.

and now in the house...Prime time in the daytime-the way god intended it.