And the synthesizers in the eighties were nothing like moogs

Irrelevant I guess. I was casually reliving a memory from when I was a child, but there’s always got to be a pedant to further solidify my general withdrawal from society because I’m clearly not satisfactorily intelligent enough for it.

They existed and were more of a new wave instrument at the time, but not heavily used in rock like that.

I was unaware of Brownsville Station when I was eleven.

Sorry to have failed your class professor.

We couldn’t all be Jack Black in high fidelity at that age.

I believe I was in sixth grade when that album came out.

First of all, it used a whole lot of synthesizers, which were pretty new technology at the time, and I felt like I was living in the future when I heard it.

As to the album cover, it somehow didn’t register with my that it was a baby smoking.

Rather, it made me think of teenagers smoking in the high school bathroom.

Motley Crue’s Smokin in the Boys Room came out a year later, so I don’t think that influenced my mental image.

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Combination of being salaried plus industry culture.

It’s been years since I’ve eaten food away from my desk. And God forbid I should forget to bring food and need to run downstairs for sixteen seconds to purchase something. That’s truly one of the seven deadly sins.

What are the chances that I, a not particularly tech savvy person, go to download mint and end up bricking my computer?

Honestly, my computer is an absolute bottom of the barrel $200 Dell laptop right now, so it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I’d hate to fuck it up, get a better computer, and fuck that up too.

I believe that’s the European Union free trade zone for bidets and electric kettles. Metric cash only, please.

I don’t know. Some people who experience abuse and escape it become far worse abusers when they’re in position to do so.

What I found via the experiences I relayed is that most jukeboxes will allow you to download just about anything. Too niche for an old school unit that has a fixed number of CDs in it, but not too niche for the Internet.

What if they’re American vegans who use the imperial system of measurement, don’t own a bidet, and microwave their water for tea? Should I break out the cross and hammer?

Jesus Christ. I met my ex-girlfriend through mutual music tastes. We both followed bands that are well under the national radar.

I couldn’t take her to bars because she would load up the jukebox with hours worth of the music we listened to.

I’m the first to admit that it’s an acquired taste, not necessarily something you want to blast throughout a bar full of drunks who don’t know it and more likely than not won’t like it.

This happened over and over. Got thrown out of a couple places because she would get in fights over it.

Jesus

Unemployment on the reservation hovers between 80% and 85%, and 49% of the population live below the federal poverty level. Many of the families have no electricity, telephone, running water, or sewage systems; and many use wood stoves to heat their homes, depleting limited wood resources.

Then again, why don’t they just pull themselves up by the moccasin straps? Look at them. I bet some of them even have refrigerators! /s

When did this start? I last logged into Facebook about a year ago because a high school classmate died and I was expected to post a few words. My account had been deactivated but not deleted for three or four years prior, and I had no issues.

Not in computers. I’m an accountant. I don’t have enough money to throw the double middle fingers. Can somebody please, for the love of all that’s holy, show me the way out or, you know, come sneak onto my property when I’m not looking and delete me?

Edit: JUST now, I got told that I’m unprofessional because I refuse to give my personal cell phone number to all three thousand of our clients. I said that my private phone funded by my personal money is not a business asset and they can give me a company phone if they want me texting clients. This was met with a huff, turning of a back on me, and storming off.

There were a bunch of geese around my grandparents’ house when I was a kid. God those things would torment me. They had free range of the property and I tended to completely avoid the area they hung out because they were hyper aggressive and would chase after me every time I got anywhere near them. I was six years old, so it felt like they were as tall as me and they were definitely faster.

It wasn’t so bad once I got a little older, a little taller, and relied more on my bicycle than my feet for movement.

Nonetheless, those things gave me childhood trauma to the extent that I still can’t stand geese some forty five years later.

They’ll make you listen to Vogon poetry. If your head explodes, you’re not a bot.

Suppose Don Diaper weasels his way back in. Do you suppose he’ll remember and/or give two shits about this guy and extend a pardon?

Now I wonder about elephants given that they have funerals and mourn their dead.

A more sustainable, but way more difficult than it seems game is power hour. There should be multiple versions of it on YouTube. At least there were circa 2010.

It plays a song for a minute, then changes to another song for a minute, then another and so on over sixty minutes.

Every time the song changes, you take a shot of beer.

When I was in college about three hundred years ago, it was called the century club and went for one hundred minutes, but since we didn’t have YouTube back then, it was just watching the clock. Amazing how fast that God damned second game can move.