![When I was younger, dripping optimism, and at the apex of my physical vigor, I acquired a reputation for driving around in my shit-heap 1987 Hyundai hatchback while craning my neck out the window and whistling at females twice my age. Lodged roughly in the center of the cracked maroon dash, above the ashtray that fell out every time I accelerated, was the abused tape player. My pattern was such: put on the one tape available, play it at full volume through the rattling bass-absent speakers, drive around and around the town I was stuck in until either the gas ran out or the cassette snapped. One of the tapes in question during this era was Mudhoney’s Superfuzz Bigmuff Plus, the perfect soundtrack for driving from the cemetery to the skate rink to the clubhouse to the Arby’s. Don’t know what it would be like to see them now. They probably wouldn’t sound right without me sipping a Tiger’s Blood slushy from the driver’s seat of a lemon.
I spent the evening of the Mudhoney concert pursuing endeavors free of high-school nostalgia, namely: sex. I didn’t wear a safety belt.
[via Tuff Shit]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/azxD5kcjlffke9btpAHhT3eco1_400.gif)
When I was younger, dripping optimism, and at the apex of my physical vigor, I acquired a reputation for driving around in my shit-heap 1987 Hyundai hatchback while craning my neck out the window and whistling at females twice my age. Lodged roughly in the center of the cracked maroon dash, above the ashtray that fell out every time I accelerated, was the abused tape player. My pattern was such: put on the one tape available, play it at full volume through the rattling bass-absent speakers, drive around and around the town I was stuck in until either the gas ran out or the cassette snapped. One of the tapes in question during this era was Mudhoney’s Superfuzz Bigmuff Plus, the perfect soundtrack for driving from the cemetery to the skate rink to the clubhouse to the Arby’s. Don’t know what it would be like to see them now. They probably wouldn’t sound right without me sipping a Tiger’s Blood slushy from the driver’s seat of a lemon.
I spent the evening of the Mudhoney concert pursuing endeavors free of high-school nostalgia, namely: sex. I didn’t wear a safety belt.
[via Tuff Shit]
