Teenagers like their music, whatever genre it is. In this article, I will be exploiting the point-of-view of stereos that different types of teenagers have, enjoy.

Hipster's stereo: Hey, you're a real douche, you know? I cost your parents at least 800 bucks, and you hook me up to a record player; you make me sick. That's not even the worst part about being in your crappy apartment. You keep your stash of weed under the right speaker, YOU DON'T LIVE WITH YOUR PARENTS ANYMORE! You could keep your stash out in the open in one of your empty Ikea bowls like some fuckin' potpourri. Then your music; don't get me started on that. The bands that you listen to put their songs on either a really crappy CD or if you're lucky enough, a fuckin' record. Now that I'm done, can you take the fedora off of the second left speaker? It's really itchy.

Metalhead's stereo: First, buy a bigger shelf, I think one more mosh pit in your basement will make me fall off of it. Would it kill you to buy a CD rack or something? The entire Slayer discography is pretty heavy, and your cheap plywood shelving doesn't help at all. When you carved that anagram into the volume knob with a steak knife when you were high really hurt. If I wasn't an electronic, I'd bleed, but I'm not. If you used a sticker, one fucking sticker, I wouldn't mind as much; but instead you carve that anagram into me and then you decorate the shit out of me with stickers you get from the concerts you go to. Make some real cash, kid, so you can actually sit in the actual stadium and listen to them instead of waiting outside and stealing freebies. You make me sick. If I could only reach your pocket knife on the shelf under me, I would cut you open and repaint myself with your blood. OH GOD, I'M TURNING INTO YOU!

Stoner's stereo: Do you have any idea what my brother does? He's in some metalhead's basement all by himself blasting music all day and night. While you, you keep my volume down to 20, I can go up to 50! Do you want to know the reason you think you need to replace me? First, you buy me from a pawn shop for half my retail price. Second, all the fumes from your weed are fucking up the subwoofer. And third, I have burns all over from you putting your lit joints on me. You make me sick. If I have to play "smoke two joints" one more time, I'm going to "break two joints" you hear? You're a real fucking hypocrite, if you wanna throw my ass out, then stop cuddling my speaker, faggot.

Girl's Stereo: Like, OMG. i could not live n e more w/o u. Clears throat ARRRRGH, I hate when that happens. I hate you, I hate your parents, and I hate wearing your fucking underwear on my head. No, it does not look funny or cute or acceptable. Stop using me for kareoke, you have a machine in your basement from 1995 that hasn't seen the light of day since that year. My earphone jack is not for a microphone, learn to fucking read you bitch, and while you're at it, learn to sing. It's like hearing my grandmother fall down 8 flights of stairs and landing on a box of weasels. In fact, you should go do that right now. Well, I got a little bit of revenge for you putting your lipstick print on my LCD display. That colour makes you look like a Vietnamese tranny by the way. When you tried to fit and 8-track in to the CD changer, you fucked up the laser so now you can't listen to anymore of your music. I personally don't mind the songs, but when you play them with your ever changing moods, it gets pretty fucking annoying, especially when you are bipolar. When your boyfriend was here a few days ago, I heard him say that he thinks you're a psychotic bitch and deserves to die in a fire. Then I can stay in this room in total peace and quiet.