I love all sorts of music, I hope other people do as well, but music ceases to be music when it is dressed up a country and western (spit). I bet you can all guess what the Yeti in Pink Knickers loves to listen to, Yep, Dolly Parton wailing away and Waylon Jennings howling about anything sad. Waylon! what sort of name is that anyway.
So in an act of kindness, I gave her a I-poddy thing that she can load all her crap on and then listen through earphones without contaminating the my eardrums with the god awful sound. I even spent hours loading the thing up with all her CDs. Peace, beautiful, I don't even have to talk to her as the things you bung in your ears cut out any thoughts of conversation.
Two days and not a whisper of the Man in Black or any of his miserable cronies , TYIPK is walking around smiling and pleased as punch with her present. While I sit in peace without being assaulted with the so called music.
Then as the season is a good reason to stuff my face with all sorts of rich food, the rennies were running low so she popped out to get some. But she came home with with more than a little box of minty anti flatulence tablets. 'Look what they had on offer in the shop' she proudly shouts, and shows me a little box of tricks for I-poddy things and amongst the wires, chargers and protective covers was mini speaker, not just any mini speaker, but a mini speaker that if you 'accidently' drop when nobody is looking still carries on blaring out it's tinny sound.
Now the earbuds are stuck in my ears, not connected, but they seem better than cotton wool while Waylon the bar steward and that tart Dolly regale the neighbourhood with a caterwauling sound in stereo that makes the local dogs run, tails between legs for cover. The bloody thing even works underwater.