Monday, May 07, 2007
THE SONIC CONSEQUENCES OF INTOXICATION
Most of us have experienced the embarrassment of drunk dialing. That moment of intoxication when it seems like a brilliant idea to go through your phone book and harass ex-boyfriends, booty call long lost girlfriends, prank call professors and generally abuse this mode of communication in ways Alexander Graham Bell never envisioned...then pass out with your phone in one hand and a beer in the other.
With the age of e-mail, a new threat arrived: drunk e-mailing. This is perhaps worse, because you write horrid, rude, grammatically incorrect shit; telling a friend, relative or co-worker exactly how you feel about their Jamaican vacation, crappy forwarded jokes or ugly kid. You hit "send" with satisfaction...then pass out on the keyboard. When you wake up a few hours later with keyboard indentations on your forehead, you realize the folly of your ways. And there's no way to reverse the epistolary damage. Obviously, drunk texting also falls into this category.
Now, there is yet another drunken minefield:
While it has not been popularized to the extent that drunk dialing and drunk e-mailing have, it is equally dangerous. I have fallen prey to drunk downloading on many occasions. I will come home from a lovely evening of swilling gin and tonics and decide to get on the computer. I will turn up the i-Tunes. I will start to dance. And by "dance" I mean sway in my chair and wiggle my arms around. Soon I will decide that my music collection is missing something. Yes, I will think, I can no longer drunkenly sway and wiggle in this chair with any degree of satisfaction because I only have a paltry 3,657 songs in my i-Tunes library. And I cannot rest, cannot experience true fulfillment in this chair until the situation is rectified.
In the morning, I am horrified to discover that rectifying the situation somehow involved buying unbelieveably awful music from the i-Tunes store.
If you think I'm exaggerating, consider this:
I woke up on Sunday and found that while drunk downloading I had purchased the following songs:
1.) Right Said Fred's "Too Sexy"
2.) Salt n' Pepa's "I Like to Party"
3.) Naughty By Nature's "O.P.P."
4.) Fergie's "Fergilicious"
5.) Tom Jones' "Sex Bomb"
If that collection of sonic malfeasance isn't enough reason to get my ass next to Lindsay Lohan at A/A, I don't know what is.