Whilst working, early this morning, a local radio station played in the background. Normally a good mix of happy songs, there were some terrible, terrible songs in the rotation for this morning. Stupid, sappy, late–70s love songs. It was horrifying, and it didn’t enhance my effort at all.
As I ate lunch, yet another radio station played in the background. The first song that came on was John Denver’s ‘Thank God I’m a Country Boy,’ so I figured things were not going to get any better. I was wrong.
After I got my burger, I heard the characteristic open sounds of one of the greatest songs in the history of mankind: Shaft!
Yes, I love that song…maybe a little too much. But if loving Shaft is wrong, I don’t want to be right! Or live in the 21st century, for that matter.
Then some hippies (I swear, none of them older than 21, none of them wasting more than $5 on shaving gear in their lives) walked in. After the group sat down, the waitress asked them what they wanted to drink, left, and returned, she asked them if they “knew what they wanted?”
“…besides a haircut?” I added.
Then I spent the next three minutes trying to act like I was trying to get something out of my beard as to cover up my hysterical non–laughing.
Hippies? Shaft? The 70s?
It was funny to me, anyways.
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SHUT your mouth!
Yeah, that Shaft, he’s one bad mother—
I’m just talkin’ about Shaft
We can dig it