Odamari!

This morning, I awoke in an awkward manner, which put me in a bad mood so early in the morning. I kept hearing odd noises during my REM sleep moments, that it confirmed absolutely the worst thing that I would be hearing in any morning previously.

The noise was coming from a very loud radio from my next door neighbor. It wasn’t really a noise, because somehow I can understand words from it. It was the disc jockey talking, in a tone personally implying that he should retire soon from old age. Then he plays the music. It put me in such an annoyance state because he played songs from HIS generation. Not that I’m complaining about 50s or 60s or even 70s pop music, but those songs he played, made me want to go back in time and shoot the damned artist. It was so, OLD, and UNRETRO (if such a word existed), that even though I love pop rock music from the 60s (The Beatles, Bob Dylan comes to mind), I was so disgusted by this genre of music. I personally think these songs are even older than my parent’s generation. Perhaps it was played in a generation before them? No one knows, really.

Then, as I fight the feeling of irritation through the morning, I felt resigned to my fate — my neighbors, no matter how hot, err, physically attractive some of them are, listens to really really crappy radio station, that plays really really crappy music.

Towards the end of the morning, I fought back by playing my Spitz collection loudly. Serves them right. They might not know Spitz, nor appreciate their music, but I love them.

And I have loud speakers. Ah, the revenge is sweeter.