When your date tells you that you have terrible music taste just respond with,
"Sorry, I have to go. It's not me, it's you. Actually, it's the taxidermy of you and me. Untie the balloons from around my neck and ground me. I'm just a racehorse on the track. Send me back to the glue factory. Always thought I'd float away. And never come back. But I've got enough miles on my card to fly the boys home on my own. But you know me: I like being all alone. And keeping you all alone. And the charts are boring. And the kids are snoring. And my ego's in a sling. You said you're not listening and I said I'm wishing...And I said... I said..."
Them be like: "said what?"
Me: I'm reADY TO GOOOOOoOOOOOOooOOO
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I wonder if anyone would get the first part....
