I thought you were the love of my life (no offense to everyone who thinks they may be the love of my life). I thought that I was cool. I thought you were cool. Like the good white chick that I am, I have a radio crush on someone named Ira (Flatow, not Glass) who works for NPR. I listen to Morning Edition or All Things considered during my commute. I know the local station schedule all too well.
But today, NPR, you failed me. These years that I have relied on you for sweet concert streams and quality music reviews, and now THIS!?
I just wasted 3 minutes of my life listening to the sound of a radiator slowed down. All because I trusted you to provide me with the right combination of quality and obscurity to find the perfect music.
This, though, is just trash. Hipster trash. I like my irony as much as the next person. But I prefer it without the suck.
Let's try harder next time. And don't let the intern do a 45-minute segment.
Sorry to publicly humiliate you like this,