| | Nostalgia trips are boring and trite. Oh be gone the sadness of my endangered heart, for I loved thee record store! Yee my heart be filled with sadness for you have left! Where shall I purchase my near likeness Gucchi and Louise Vitton purses?
Go read some Ray Bradbury novel where he goes on and on about the magic of youth and the smell of the fresh cut lawns and the pure joy of knowing the carnival was soon going to be in town and drown in your own tears knowing, OH DEAR! THINGS WILL NEVER BE THE SAME! You boring old twit. |