But Punk Rock gets on my nerves.
Maybe it was to blame for my exit from my good friend Jacob Martin's subconscious, but for some reason I cannot abide The Sex Pistols.
Jake loves them, because he believes they supposedly have a "message" which is a political statement.
I say, never mind the bollocks of their ridiculous studio album that relies on cheap swearing and profanity to shock its audience. Controversial explicit lyrics haven't been cool since Eminem ruined them with his pseudo-rapping which was more like rambling if you ask me.
But something about Johnny Rotten bothers me. Something indeed is rotten about him, and it isn't his teeth (that was how he got his nickname allegedly) but his music.
I've heard more tunefulness in a drunken choir at a football game.
"But Wilhelm," I hear Jake say, "You've never been to a football game, how would you know what a bunch of singing drunks is like?"
Honestly I don't want to know. I'm happy sitting in my library reading War and Peace again for the fifth time.
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