Jun. 8th, 2010

shirtlifterbear: (HATE!)
So. Not. Kidding.

Look, all you wannabe "parrotheads" and "margaritavillains", this is what life is like in the Florida Keys where I grew up, 24/7:

Stop to get gas and "Cheeseburger in Paradise" is playing at the pump. Go inside to buy a soda while the tank fills, and you get "Pencil-Thin Mustache".

Go to the supermarket to pick up six-pack of soda since the Buffet-ting made you flee the Quickie Mart, and "Son of a Son of a Sailor" is MUZAKING all over you. "A Pirate Looks at Forty" played by A Thousand Strings? Please. Kill. Me.

"Come Monday", it WON'T be alright, because the damn songs are omnipresent, loudly so, and are there SOLELY to convince you that the Keys are all about saying "Why Don't We Get Drunk And Screw" to anyone in a Hawaiian shirt. There will be no "Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes" my fine tourista terrorista, there will only be SUNBURN, and garish clothing. And flip-flops. Oh God, the flip-flops.

And the only respite from the Jimmy Buffet Playlist of Terror?

"Kokomo."

Which doesn't exist.

Cut to protect the naive who still think Santa and the Easter Bunny exist! OOPS, SPOILER ALERT. )

DEATH TO THE OPPRESSOR.

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