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No Adele! Stop making me Cry!

The Hazards of Listening to Google Music at Work

I have a rather impressive collection of music starting to form in my Google (Play) Music, and this is a wonderful and haunting thing. It’s great, because Google Play is basically the same as Apple’s iTunes Store with one major difference: Apple ties all purchases to the device, where Google embraces the Cloud and ties all purchases to the account.  This is especially good for a wide traveling dude like me, because I need access to my stuff anywhere I go, and I tend to work from 4 different computers (and my phone). Thanks to Google, I don’t have to fill up the disk space on my phone with music and can save it all for the apps, the tasty, tasty apps.

Of course, this usually means that I spend a lot of time listening to my extensive (and growing) collection of extremely eclectic music. With no space restraints, there is no reason for me not to just as every mp3 I come across to my Google. This includes basically downloading everything available for free from Google and Amazon in a systematic and orderly manner, and eventually will mean consuming the entire Creative Commons library.

So, naturally, I put all of my music on shuffle and let it run.

I find myself bebopping along to some No More Kings, “JUMP IN MICHEAL, YOU’VE GOT THAT LOOK LIKE YOU’RE IN TOOOO DEEEEP,” working diligently on doing something like counting washers or converting outdated MS Publisher files into a more friendly OOo Docutment format, when all of a sudden, creeping up from under my monitor (where my cell phone lays playing music to me) I hear,

“I’ve heard you’ve settled down…”

Yeah, I’m a pretty emo bitch, so, you know that the moment I heard those lyrics I was left, trying not to let the other people in my cube know what was going down.

That’s the danger of Google Music, sir.

 

Too much music to control, and sooner or later, you’re going to be a sobbing bitch.

sad

Published by M.A. Brotherton

M.A. Brotherton is a writer, blogger, artist, and fat-kid from the suburbs of Kansas City, Missouri. He’s tasted a little bit of everything the Midwest has to offer, ranging from meth-tweaking rednecks in massive underground cave complexes to those legendary amber waves of grain. When he’s not writing, he spends most of his time screwing around on the internet.

One thought on “No Adele! Stop making me Cry!”

  1. Lady *S* of Glitter says:

    AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. What I meant is I’m sorry, dude. 

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