How acceptable is it to live in New York and suddenly relate powerfully to Strokes songs? I'm guessing it's a shameful disgrace akin to the one I feel for enjoying "The Office."
Art that convincingly replicates life carries with it a danger. If the art convinces you, it's won, whether it's right or not.
I AINT WASTIN NO MORE TIIIIIIME
aka
PAM LETS GO ON A DATE I AM SUPER TALL! OUR BOSS IS ANNOYING!
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