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Beschreibung
So again, how in the hell does anyone with a scintilla of integrity foist this carbon based catastrophe on citizens without “Hey, you dumb consumer bastard, feel the full weight of my sneering contempt, reserved just for you!” so blatantly implied? Sometimes, I hate my job.
Well, maybe we could say that these are the pieces the way they were intended to be read? That all put together, they make a handy and potentially enjoyable resource for those who don’t have time to read them as they stagger and fall into existence every week? Yes! Let’s go with that. These are the versions before they were sent to finishing school to be refined and taught to keep their eyes and ears open and their mouths shut. This is the raw and “real” stuff, which also describes the artwork of a three year old.
It could be put across that it’s all about keeping the “artist” from falling into the depths of starvation and insanity. “I met Henry Rollins a few years ago. I was walking back to my car in the Rite Aid parking lot off of Fairfax. I saw a man urinating on my driver’s side door. It was Henry. He smiled, waved with his free hand and said, ‘TV party tonight!’ then limped away.” This is what we’re trying to avoid.
Sad how things sometimes end up, huh? That some buds never fully bloom? Ah, nature, while often cruel, always the straightest line to the truth. Well, even the mightiest redwood will one day fall. Okay, that’s not a good example but nonetheless, on with the show. Get out your handkerchiefs, here it is, Before The Chop II!
Can I stop now? The stench is making my eyes burn . . .