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broken guitar

A lot of people are very sentimental about their instruments. I am not, terribly.

I feel that they are tools, like an axe or a shovel, and even the best tools wear out and have to be replaced.

Everyone I have told about it getting broken has been like "oh MAAAAN... no!", as though I were about to break down.

My friend Greg dropped my guitar and cracked it.

Oops!

When we got to the rehearsal hall I dragged it down the hallway on the concrete floors past several other musicians. They stared at me. Sacrelige!

"Stop it! Stop dragging that," Greg said.

I laughed. I put it between my legs and rode it like a horse, bumping it on the ground and making horse noises.

He shouted at me to stop.

I pushed it against the wall and started humping it, banging it against the wall.

"GIVE IT TO MEH DADDY! YOU MAKE ME SO HOT" I screamed.

He grabbed it from me.

"Fucking stop that. I don't want anyone to know what I did to it."

I might make a lamp out of it, I guess. Maybe set it on fire. I haven't decided yet.

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