Dear Ipod,
It’s been 5 long, panic-inducing days with the radio since you’ve been gone. Last time I saw you, K-Ci and JoJo were crooning from that flashing dog you were attached to while I was getting busy like I did as a teen when that 2nd Jodeci tape came out. Now I’m “feenin” for your swift return before T-Pain and DJ “We The Best!” Khaled drive me to drankin’. Alicia has gotten whiny and Mary J is….well, yawn. I ride around in the company car, trying to light on one single, good song I can bob my head to while I’m giving road dome….I mean driving. Was it that awkward Hall and Oates (AKA Holland Oats) phase I went through just recently that turned you away? I promise to never play them again or that annoying “Gasolina” song that I downloaded post-club and irrational at the crib that night. I hope it wasn’t the M.I.A. I rocked because it got good reviews, only to realize I was just perpetrating as a raver and have never actually done any psychedelics. I certainly did you no favor by spilling Banana Red MD 20/20 on you that time or leaving you on the Jetta’s roof for you to fly off and be trampled on by Church Street tranny feet until I rescued you....(Read More)
