In one of those moments of sheer boredom, I started browsing my dusty CD collection. After seeing each and every one of the 100+ titles that threaten to fracture the CD case’s spine like an old lady’s hip after being pushed down a flight of stairs, I came to the brilliant and incisive conclusion that I have a really, really fucked up taste for music.
Can you imagine what goes on in the head of a guy who likes both Stone Temple Pilots and Britney Spears?
Exactly.
At least I would have an excuse calling some of my CD’s "guilty pleasures", but I’m not gonna lie to you, I greatly enjoy listening to disposable fluff like BB Mak, La Bouche and (the horror!) Kelly Clarkson. Yes. Kelly Clarkson. You can stop wincing now, asshole.
The thing is, If those are guilty pleasures, I don’t feel "guilty" at all. Should I be worried?
At least it would make sense if that so-called "pussy music" (Britney, Christina, N*Sync and oodles of other teenybopper shit) was all that I listened to. Oooh no laddie, I also happen to love Tori Amos, Poe, Björk, Stabbing Westward and Garbage.

What would Ice Cube say if he learned that he shares a CD case with Mandy Moore?
I would have become the victim of a grisly drive-by shooting by now.
Better yet: what would a duet between these two sound like?

I have been told that I have the musical taste of a 15 year old valley girl.
What kind of valley girl listens to Porcupine Tree?
Apparently, I do. The music I listen to has me labeled by some friends as some fucked up pubescent high school little tart with psychotic tendencies.

Judging from my CD’s, I make Carrie look like a fucking nun.

So, my advice is: In the not-so-likely occasion that you find yourself browsing in horror through my CD case, don’t look at me as if I had two heads.

Who knows, I might use telekinesis to shove those CD’s through your ass. Sideways.

Posted in Celebs, Frivolities, GayTunes, Reveries, WTF |

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