Where the musicians enter and leave in quick succession, like a group of dysenteric but toilet trained chimpanzees

If I had a music teacher, s/he would have told me that the older one gets, the more difficult s/he would find it to learn a musical instruments. “The fingers, my child”, the music teacher would have told me in a gruff voice, “are too set in their own ways; it is difficult to make them bend and weave when they have already become so stubborn.”

My music teacher would (obviously) be part-Yoda.

Obviously.

This shit totally cracked me up.

For every two words spoken, a hundred die a silent death.

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