I have just ended a fit of agony and self-loathing. Above my tear encrusted eyes are throbbing temples that seem to pulsate slowly then speed up really quickly then stop for a second and finally throb really intensely. They have been doing that since my child, a young, once tender 17-year-old boy started coming home in the late hours of the night smelling of menthol cigarettes, moth balls and hopped up on those “nitrous brownies.” This once innocent seedling sprouted into a horrendous monster who spends his days spinning glowing rubber balls in circles repeatedly.
I no longer care about some young tramp from Europe singing about “promises.” I want this obsession with bass to end. I want to put the treble juice back into my cup, and drink it. Drink every fucking drop. I will wake up and relish in a world without dubstep.
God help my son. —Distressed Mother
This article appears in Aug 30 – Sep 5, 2012.
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Intervention time for Honey Boo Boo. Just think of how much T.L.C. will pay you for the broadcast rights.
Teenagers have survived everything from That Damned Jazz Age to That Damned Marylin Manson. It hasn’t been pretty and it hasn’t been fun to listen to, but it will eventually pass.
How bout you start parenting and stop complaining on an online site. Might get you somewhere. If you can’t handle that then you should not have had kids in the first place.
I doubt the boy was ever quite as innocent as you imagined him to be and there are a lot worse things in life than the dubstep scene.
you shouldn’t have to worry for too long…
shouldn’t he be leaving the nest any day now?
just poke a hole in the sub woofers. apart from that pithy advice, this surely reads like a spooferino.
You don’t have to get pithy about it GDM!
What Ivan said. This too shall pass.
ditto on ivans withe wordth…thith too thall path.
take a couple of ludes and drift off into oblivion there o.p.
That techno & dubstep is really hard on the head n noisy. I prefer the “next level beats” of Die Antwoord