I finally broke down and decided to do that meme where you post ten comments regarding random people and they get to guess which one is theirs. So, without further adieu,
1. Drop dead.
2. Drop dead.
3. Drop dead.
4. Drop dead.
5. Drop dead.
6. Drop dead.
7. Drop dead.
8. Drop dead.
9. Drop dead.
10. And, most especially to you, drop dead.
Have fun guessin'!
p.s. if you think my journal is too negative, you better check your own before you go bitching about mine. 'cuz i ain't seen very many hotbeds of Absolut Sunshine on here, so to speak.
Dere Kurdt Nobrain,
Hi, remember me? I was that old chick who was so moved by your untimely demise that I wrote Andy Rooney a nastygram when he dissed you and I stopped watching "60 Minutes" forever. (Though I'll admit you were partly an excuse because smug ol' Mike Wallace was really starting to get on my nerves.) You were a dumb smackheaded twit. And the only song of yours I ever really liked was "About a Ho" oops I mean "About a Girl". (Although I have to admit you were more worth listening to than crud like Dookie, or most of the once and future output of Radiohead.) And you spawned a whole generation of the jerkiest fans ever, horrid little deadly-earnest 90's neohippunkkids, ewwwww. (Although I know that wasn't your fault and you felt guilty 'cuz you couldn't stand 'em either.)
But, you were cute and you still give good icon. I bet your picture is still stuck in my Electrical Communications Theory textbook down in the basement. (And I know you'll forgive me if I don't rush down there and dig it out 'cuz I'd rather forget about that class right now, thankx.) And you did send me that dream with the punks and kilts ten years ago. (You know which dream I mean.) Thanks also for having the Kennedyesque good sense to check out before you got to look and act like your wife, who continues, like most sad embarrassments to humanity, to persist in existing. I will now go sing a few choruses of REO Speedwagon in your honor and remind myself how much cooler you were than Smelliott Myth.
p.s. The obvious answer to that magazine's query about "Why the Man and His Music Still Matter" is "Because he sells magazines, stupid!! Nobody would buy this @#$%! rag if all you had in it was the World Karaoke Championships!"