Posted by: Rob | April 22, 2009

Your Freedom Stops Where My Freedom Starts

Neat idea, eh?  It’s not my original thought, however, but I don’t recall exactly where or when I read this.

Somebody should explain this idea to the idiots retailing those godawful thumping car stereos and the morons who buy and use them.

I mean, really, where is the consideration when some asshole temporarily parked two blocks away (I checked) has to play his car stereo so fucking loud with such throbbing bass that it rattles the teeth (which aren’t false) in my mouth when I’m inside my own fucking house?

Where?  Seriously.  I want to know.  No, I need to know.

Before I go postal.


  1. It doesn’t matter where we are, does it. Home or in a mountain motel. Rude people prevail and I wonder why we all think that is something we must live with.

  2. just go postal. and if we’re lucky? you’ll get ’em before they breed. it would be considered justifiable homicide…

    • Nothin’ but fear stopping me. Although I have been fantasizing about that line from a Clint Eastwood movie, “There’s nothin’ like a good piece of hickory.”

  3. I think I would have shot me some subwoofer, there. Now if they’d only invent something to turn those things off remotely, like the gadget that can turn off TV’s in public places that persist in erring Faux Spews.

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