in memoriam: your m.o.r. vanilla latte soundtrack

ding-dong, you're DEAD

Turns out the economy isn’t such a monster after all.  Muster all your might to restrain the river of tears: Muzak, the scourge of chain restaurant workers, retail employees and elevator operators across the globe, has filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy.

In hindsight, “Muzak” was such an accurate spelling for the company; they managed to butcher songs that I once adored, constantly repeat ones that caused me to heavily consider killing small animals, and introduce me to ones that made me consider ending it all in self-inflicted spork-stabbing carnage.

Muzak didn’t cruise the middle of the road, they paved it. They pumped gallons of milque all over your toast. Here’s a rundown of the aural snot we all grew far too accustomed to listening to while trying to innocently shop or eat:

Awful jazz covers of Top-40 songs: If hearing something like “Soak Up the Sun” by Sheryl Crow gave you any sort of positive imagery of being at the beach or playing volleyball with your bros, hearing the jazz rendition is akin to swimming in your bedpan at the geriatric ward during a four-finger prostate exam while watching public access television.