Dear People at the Jukebox,

www.apple.com

That’s where you buy an iPod. 

The jukebox is not an iPod that you’re leasing one song at a time.  So what’s the fucking hold-up?  How many fucking times do you have to flip through the 20 albums?

Let’s do a quick examination:

10 are CD’s you are not interested in, guaranteed.  Hits from the 50’s?  Are you going to listen to the Twist?  No.

5 are CD’s you are mildly interested in.

5 are CD’s you own.

So how many fucking times do you have to look through these?

If you spend more time looking through the albums than listening to the songs, you just wasted your investment.  Which is 50-fucking-cents, by the way.  50 cents!  You shouldn’t think about spending fifty cents that seriously.  A million dumb kids every day put 50 cents into a machine, crank a handle and get some plastic bubble with a horrible toy inside or maybe a gumball that is more hollow inside than their stupid heads.  That’s a way to spend 50 cents.  How much do you think they agonize over the decision?

You know what would have been really uncool?  If Fonzie had come into the diner, spent about 12 minutes looking through the songs, made a selection, and THEN punched the jukebox and made it play.

And then you pick Nirvana’s “Polly.”  Not my favorite songs, especially in a goddamn hamburger restaurant in the middle of the day on Sunday.  Sorry, but I usually save songs alluding to capturing teen girls for appropriate times, like when I’m trying to shower and avoid jerking off.

I’ll make it real simple.  Boston, Foreigner, Skynyrd, “Time After Time,” and Queen.  You pick those or you walk.

Best,
Helpful Snowman