It’s constant: this unflagging, maniacal stream of plaintive detritus. What do they CALL it? They call it music, never anything more specific or stylized, and another thing is that they speak with this bizarre sense of authority when vouching for its merit. It’s like they stayed in a Holiday Inn Express last night [1]. And … Continue reading “It’s Hard Not to Fall for a Woman Whose Pandora Station Toggles to ‘Zip-Lock’ by Lit”