At approximately 8:20AM Pacific Time the iPod known as Little Tom expired with a whir, a grinding noise, and then a click. Born in 2004, the black and red portable music device had over the years become a crowd favorite, particularly on Thursday nights, with its eclectic collection of popular music as well as selections from cooler-than-thou bands doled out in random ten samplings of eleven because we don’t count so good.

The cold and lifeless chunk of metal and plastic, which had brought hundreds of hours of joy to friend and stranger alike was discovered this morning resting in its Bose SoundDock, its screen faded and indistinct, and attempts to revive it by holding down menu and the center select button for six seconds multiple times were unsuccessful.

Based upon the recollection of others, it is believed that its last words were:

Charlie don’t surf and you know that it ain’t no good
Charlie don’t surf for his hamburger Momma
Charlie don’t surf

Services will be private and the family requests, in lieu of flowers, please kill Scott Stapp.



Yeah. Like I would tell you....