06-05-2016, 06:46 AM
My tapes survive in a dark little room where sun rarely shines and pussy rarely gets exposed. The old white cassettes with the song titles smeared off last. Video cassettes of Return to Oz last. Cats and dogs come here to fuck and never get pregnant and most of all lizards and spiders. The eggs they lay never hatch. I have Bleach through Unplugged in New York on cassette tape. Never Mind and Unplugged in New York got tore up, I had to get them on CD. Never Mind on CD had a hidden track. When my tape player broke originally, I bought an In Utero CD. My In Utero tape said Waif Me on the song listing instead of Rape Me. The CD was made in Germany, said Rape me, and also had a hidden track. Gallons of Rubbing Alcohol Flow and Perry Ellis with his broom. They hidden tracks were fun. In 1994 even that lame band Green Day had nice sounding cassette tapes I was in to and still have.
Poetry, it never happened. You had every Nirvana album by '95, Bleach through Unplugged in New York and the singles and live imports, Green Day Slappy Days and Kerplunk, The Offspring Ignition. If you had Green Day Dookie or Offspring Smash you were a sellout, like the bands were. Me, I was still listening to Guns n Roses. I was still into Meat Loaf. I was into Poe, Byron, Baudelaire and Shelley. I bought the first The Presidents of the United States of America single, Lump. And was born into Neil Young and Tom Petty. It was easy where I grew up, because whatever you were into was rebellious, no one else knew anything in the late '80s but Bryan Adams, Garth Brooks, and Bob Seeger and the Silver Bullet Band live.
And Lynrd Skynrd. Or however it's spelled. Everybody knew Creedence Clearwater Revival, but they pretended like they didn't as excuse to beat you up. If you said you were reading Samuel Taylor Coleridge, they thought you meant your dad was a dentist or doctor or something and ignored you.
The only reason they didn't beat me up was because I pretended like I liked it. I learned that from Lord Byron.
Poetry, it never happened. You had every Nirvana album by '95, Bleach through Unplugged in New York and the singles and live imports, Green Day Slappy Days and Kerplunk, The Offspring Ignition. If you had Green Day Dookie or Offspring Smash you were a sellout, like the bands were. Me, I was still listening to Guns n Roses. I was still into Meat Loaf. I was into Poe, Byron, Baudelaire and Shelley. I bought the first The Presidents of the United States of America single, Lump. And was born into Neil Young and Tom Petty. It was easy where I grew up, because whatever you were into was rebellious, no one else knew anything in the late '80s but Bryan Adams, Garth Brooks, and Bob Seeger and the Silver Bullet Band live.
And Lynrd Skynrd. Or however it's spelled. Everybody knew Creedence Clearwater Revival, but they pretended like they didn't as excuse to beat you up. If you said you were reading Samuel Taylor Coleridge, they thought you meant your dad was a dentist or doctor or something and ignored you.
The only reason they didn't beat me up was because I pretended like I liked it. I learned that from Lord Byron.