What was that?

I don't listen.

It may have something to do with the "Y" chromosome, it may be due to excessive concert attendance (can you still hear the same after a Skid Row and Guns n Roses show from 1991?).

Maybe it was the 6 summers I spent landscaping, running tillers, weed whackers and other large motorized equipment. Maybe it can be traced back to the days of waiting at the bus stop, trusty Sony Walkman blaring Ozzy or Metallica. Ask the kids three seats behind me and they could sing along.

Or is it due to the vocal chords of one 4 month old with allergy issues and a bum stomach?

Regardless of the actual physical reasoning behind it, I'll need to resolve this.

Speaking of din. I wish to envelop myself in a cloak of white noise, actually brown noise is more appealing.

I am frustrated with the lack of accuracy amongst my professional brethren. Not implying that I'm perfect, just that I am constantly fixing things over and over again that I've already pointed out. This would be slightly less annoying if my attempts at learning these folks about how to do something correctly wasn't received with a pissed off attitude. Sorry to put you off jackhole, but if you'd done it correctly the first or hell even the third time, you wouldn't have all these "changes", as you like to call them.

Ooops, it's lunch, I guess I didn't hear the alarm.