The impossible has happened. Honestly. I swore... over my dead body... over my mom's dead body... really, over anything and everything that has ever mattered to me that I would never NEVER start liking country music.
Let us just consider for a moment the ridiculously terrible quality of country music.
It sucks ass.
C'mon. I know it. You know it. It's twangy, it's mostly off-key, it has -- literally -- no real musical quality. So why do I find myself humming it, singing it in the shower, and even *gasp* downloading some Aaron Pritchett during one my all-too-frequent bouts of procrastination? The only explanation I could come up with was that I drank too much trinity water and permanently damaged my brain (or perhaps my capacity to hear!).
No ... that's not the reason. The real reason starts with an "S" and ends with a "cott."
Damn you for converting me!!
