There are things I have done that I am not too proud of. Some of them are crimes against humanity and some of them are crimes against music. Sometime in 1990, I was going on a road trip with my aunt, her boyfriend, and his kids. The trip involved the fairgrounds and a hotel with a pool. While I was packing for this impromptu voyage, I made a fatal mistake: I left my stack of tapes on my dresser! So I had a walkman, batteries, and no friggin' music. We made a pitstop at K-Mart before we headed out so I got my money together and all I had was a about $11 for the whole weekend. This was not good. Then I made a horrible mistake: I purchased The Black Crowes Shake Your Money Maker. I thought that "BABY I'M TOO HARD TO HANDLE NOW YES AROUND" (that's what I thought he was saying) song was good so I fucking bought it.
I have a vague memory of a Run DMC cassette that was very tempting but OHHH NOOO, I fucking passed on that for The Black Fucking Crowes! This is why I hate myself. This is why I am a worthless piece of shit. So for the entire weekend, I had ONE TAPE. ONE! TAPE! So for the car ride to our destination, the boring night at the hotel, and the endless ride home, I had nothing but these dirtball hippie scumbag shitheads singing stupid crap to my brain. I could have been memorizing Run DMC's raps all weekend. That's a skill that would have come in very handy later in life, let me tell ya. I could have maybe been like at least a little cool for a few seconds in my useless, miserable life. Okay, I'm done.