An Open Letter to A*dele.

Dear A*dele: Look, I'm pretty easy-going when it comes to music. I can listen to just about anything in moderation. My iPod is full of an eclectic mix of just about EVERYTHING.  But your latest song, A*dele, REALLY annoys me. Grates on my nerves worse than cheatin' and drinkin' songs, gangsta rap, or even bagpipes. In fact, it makes me almost... violent. I want to bash my car stereo in with a sledgehammer when that song comes on. And it scares me about myself, but I have fleeting thoughts of holding a pillow over your face until you stop singing that song. You know, the one about how you're in love with a man who is in love with someone else. I tried to like you, A*dele, when we first met, and you seemed like a person I could be friends with. I heard one of your songs, and I thought I'd like your style. At first. It just goes to show that you can't judge a person by their first impression. Because then you started turning up out of the blue, uninvited. Over and over, again and again, and sometimes in the middle of the night, and it became clear: for YOU it wasn't over. Look, A*dele, let me break it down for ya: for YOU it might not be over, but for him, you were nothing but a rebound.Each. And. Every. Time. The time of your lives? That was your imagination. All that summer haze in your glory days? Its all in your head. You were not ANYBODY'S first choice. Ever. The sooner you realize you were only a rebound, A*dele, the sooner you can get over it, move on, and stop chasing us around with binoculars and an ice pick. Oh yes, he sees your face (in his rearview mirror) and he's reminded, all right, that for you, it isn't over.... but for him, he found a girl.  He settled down. Which obviously is a massive thorn in your thick haunches.Oh yeah, at first listen, your song seems sweet and pitifully sad, and might even convince people that you are the victim, and that they should feel sorry for you because that's the conniving, manipulative way you present yourself and its somewhat believable until your psychosis bubbles to the surface. And inevitably, it always does. Yep, A*dele. Sometimes it lasts in love, and sometimes it hurts instead. And I'm sorry 'bout your luck, A*dele, but the reality is that what YOU call 'love,' the rest of the world calls 'Fatal Attraction,' and your desperate pleas for attention have gotten REALLY OLD. So PLEASE. Do us a favor and start crooning your sad songs about someone else for a change. ~~~~~ Disclaimer: This blog post was strictly fiction, meant for entertainment purposes (my own) only. :) The real A*dele never chased anyone with binoculars and an ice pick, to my knowledge, nor  is she psychotic and manipulative, that I know of, nor do I want to hold a pillow over anyone's face, real A*dele or otherwise.  

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