paul walrus
New Head-Fier
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2007
- Posts
- 17
- Likes
- 10
More than likely the most obvious of all, the bastardized tin cans with strings labeled as "SkullCandy". These things stared me down at airport shops and barnes and noble stores with their aggressive color schemes and "rawk" decals. You move closer, simply to look and pet this snazzy set, the pricetags baring its teeth and growling as you approach. Beautiful, they come with a +2 cool points enchantment when they're shoved in your ears. Oh, if only if only if only I could hear the harps of the angels, you think. And then you walk away, torn from your wishes until another day.
A party later on in the week, and lo and behold your kinda-sorta-********* friend is flaunting his new "skullcrushers" whose packages you've been licking at your local swap meet. You approach warily, asking permission for the Holy grail. A benevolent smile of empathy cracking his face. He hands them over while he goes to get a drink with a "yeah, whatever".
They slide around your ears. Hmm, pain? no, it must be pleasure disguised as pain. You fumble with the 3.5 jack near your mp3 as you envision the happy years of purchase, love, and marriage ahead of you. The connection signals sound, and... you are disgusted. What is this foul din which greets my ears? Hath the trojan horse itself parked upon my head? Metal, tinny sounds ofcackles of satan emanate from the headset of the gods, creating a cacophany of bitterness and sorrow in your brain.
You throw the headphones off in disgust, hurtling them closer to their maker. Rage guide your fists as you smash the daemonic device into the soil, farther and farther rubbing more of the expensive paint off of the tin body. A burial resumes, alongside your hopes and dreams. You look around for witnesses, and trudge away, remembering to kill that person who tricked you.
I, uh, don't like that brand.
A party later on in the week, and lo and behold your kinda-sorta-********* friend is flaunting his new "skullcrushers" whose packages you've been licking at your local swap meet. You approach warily, asking permission for the Holy grail. A benevolent smile of empathy cracking his face. He hands them over while he goes to get a drink with a "yeah, whatever".
They slide around your ears. Hmm, pain? no, it must be pleasure disguised as pain. You fumble with the 3.5 jack near your mp3 as you envision the happy years of purchase, love, and marriage ahead of you. The connection signals sound, and... you are disgusted. What is this foul din which greets my ears? Hath the trojan horse itself parked upon my head? Metal, tinny sounds ofcackles of satan emanate from the headset of the gods, creating a cacophany of bitterness and sorrow in your brain.
You throw the headphones off in disgust, hurtling them closer to their maker. Rage guide your fists as you smash the daemonic device into the soil, farther and farther rubbing more of the expensive paint off of the tin body. A burial resumes, alongside your hopes and dreams. You look around for witnesses, and trudge away, remembering to kill that person who tricked you.
I, uh, don't like that brand.
