Knows what she likes. And what she doesn't.
Jagosaurus accompanied me on the ride up to Occupied Virginia this morning. She also took control of the MP3 player, and it's functioning "skip" button. So it was 5-1/2 hours of driving and precious few songs heard in their entirety. As a matter of fact, after a few notes, it was pretty much one of these variations:
"Oh, hell, no."
"Fuck no." (This was usually directed at Barry Manilow.)
"I can't listen to that."
"No way in hell can I tolerate that."
"Oh, god, no." (This was reserved for any songs that had the audacity to be sung by a country music ARTIST.)
And, very rarely, "I love this song!"
She lasted an entire two hours before casually asking, "Hey, is there a way to adjust the treble and bass in this car?"