I WAS SUBJECTED TO 5 HOURS OF PRAISE MUSIC AND LIVED TO TELL THE TALE
Occasionally, the grocery store I work at will be tuned to praise music because... small town Kansas. If you don't know what praise music is, well all I can say is bless your sweet, sweet heathen ass. Here are some thoughts I had while it was forced upon my very own blasphemer's ears for the entirety of a shift.
- •Why does every song sound like it was recorded in someone's basement recording studio in 1997?
- •Every "pop" song sounds vaguely country-ish...
- •All of the guys in the "rock" songs sound like they couldn't quite hack it in their Pearl Jam tribute band, so they decided to praise Jesus.
- •Is there only one woman who just records under various pseudonyms? Because they all sound the same.
- •Even Jesus would be like "Okay, an hour is pleeeeenty. And no one wants to listen to Creed. Just... No."
- •The chorus of one song was just a guy singing over and over "Set me on fire!" and I was like - Me, too, man. Me, too.
- •I've never felt more like sinning than I do after listening to 5 hours of that while serving deli meats and fried chicken to people wearing MAGA hats.