Music stupor

Doooh’s Picture of the day:
As I look down the list of the bands names of the music that I havd been downloading for the past few days I am completely stunned. There’s only a few bands’ names that I recognize! Some I think are bands that I guess my son is “into”, but that when I go downstaires (at home) to work on the other computer, and he is on the Windows PC, I have to ask him to turn down because it grates on my ears. I don’t mind heavy metal, or even some death-metal (I think thats the genre title) but what I can’t stand, when it comes to singing, is when the singer sounds like they’re going to be spitting out their lungs at any second. It is so obvious a screem and that they are actually damaging themselves when they’re doing that. I don’t like that at all. Alot of, no most of, the music I listen to, my wife can’t stand and immediately equates it with what my son listens to. Ya I have to admit, our tastes are similar, but there is alot of music I will listen to that I know my son won’t, so to me I know they’re not the same.


After a sexual harassment incident at work, Frank is sent to a Psychiatrist for evaluation.
The Doctor explains that he’ll be showing Frank a series of inkblot images called Rorschach Inkblots.
Doctor: “Now Frank as I reveal each image tell me the first thing that comes to mind okay.”
Frank: “Sure, I got it.”
The doctor shows the first pattern.
Doctor: “What do you see?”
Frank: “A women with really big tits.”
Next image.
Frank: “A man and a women screwing.”
Next image
Frank: “A women performing oral sex on a guy.”
The doctor puts down the images and says, “Frank you seem to have an obsession with sex.”
Frank: “Me! Hell Doc, you’re the one with all the dirty pictures.”

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