Kill Me First


I am a music lover but even Mozart sounds obnoxious when it’s played at the levels that would make a jack hammer proud. I was driving my car recently and all of a sudden I felt a horrible vibration. It was different than anything I’d ever heard before. Usually after 150,000 miles the car makes sounds like a cheap Styrofoam cooler as you drive down the road, but this was different. My car almost seemed to moan in a rhythmic low hum. I thought all my ball joints were going out at the same time. It was only as a dark sedan with tinted windows sped by that I noticed the sound lessen and go away. It dawned on me, it was his blasted radio, literally. It was then that I began to wonder if the kid driving that car would need a Whisper 2000 ear amplifier by the time he was 25 due to deafness.

I don’t begrudge music styles if people would keep it to themselves, but a torrent of questionable words coupled with what sounds like a walrus getting a root canal is not my preference.

The story is told of two men, sentenced to die in the electric chair on the same day. They were led down to the room in which they would meet their maker. The priest had given them last rites, the formal speech had been given by the warden, and a final prayer had
been said among the participants. The warden, turning to the first man, solemnly and asked, “Son, do you have a last request?” To which the man replied, “Yes sir, I do. I love dance music. Could you please play the Macarena for me one last time?”

“Certainly,” replied the warden. He turned to the other man and said, “Well, what about you, son? What is your final request?” “Please,” said the condemned man, “kill me first.

I can’t speak for others but I do believe most of us would feel that same way.

About enthusiasmiscontagious

I am an individual who analyzes all facets of life in the hopes of squeezing out some of the humorous parts.
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