“Man, what a great Sunday to get totally stoned and drag the congo out to the sidewalk and jam w/ my public address system playing the same six CDs on shuffle repeat including Carlos Santana’s Greatest Hits (sic), I don’t even think I’m going to be ashamed that my playing can be very generously described as ‘abstract’ and more accurately described as arhythmic” – a talentless sociopath neighbor living in the building across 18th street from me, every single Sunday afternoon.