Dear Deirdre,
I've just heard a record, it's the shit. They sing straight from the heart, with these nipple-like bullets of meaning, every single word touches me somewhere deep inside and I can like, totally, relate. They're in love and outta love. They too get what my nerdy brother calls my "Existential thoughts" and basically, I can't deal with this world..
I really can't deal with the cards I've been dealt! And they can't neither, just check these aaaaaaamazing lyrics "To live is to die and I can't take it all… all they gave me was this ticket to heaven. They said, just lie in that bed that you made.. I'm feeling too little to break, it's a little too laay-hey-aay-ate." or "And now you keep trying and trying to find out where you belong. And I know you feel helpless now, I know you feel alone, that's the same road, that I am on." See what I mean? How in the Holy Starbucks Ghetto Hell did they think this up? This is how it is, how much it hurts.
Oh Deirdre, how can I feel alone when people like this can be in my bedroom for just £13.99, care of some lovely corporation? This tragedy really speaks to me, but am I the only one? Should I believe these guys and follow the good book?
Yours in eye-liner and beads,
Lost and Loud, Oxford, Aged 22.
Deirdre is away this week, so you'll have to bear with me.
I went out and purchased this album to try and understand this world you're living in. I was shocked. But I think I understand, I was once just like you. Seriously readers, if 3 Doors Down** told it anymore like it is, I swear I'd blub like a raped cheerleader, with pussy zits and an empty tub of concealer!
But Lost and Loud of Oxford, please be aware that we've ALL been there! I know you have if this speaks to you. You've felt how shit the shit can get.
However, if these guys meant it anymore, they'd be presidents of the world or at least, the right hand, right on, men of that lovely, diplomatic, highly intellectual George Bush.
But I worry Lost and Loud, if you think this music is from the heart, then you really have a problem - and I know it's not your fault, nothing ever is. If this lot had an original idea in their woolly-heads and any sense of decency they woulda stuck to being a Creed/Live/Nickelback/POD/Staind tribute band.
I don't know how Deirdre manages this. Listening to this is like the pain of catching my zitty dick in my zippa! And if it hurts anywhere near as much to listen to, to live, well fuck me, you’re lucky to have not committed suicide.
The Good Book? Oh yeah, I see what you mean, they do sound like dust-sucking Christians and y'know what readers, there were reasons why there was an uprising against the Christians in the good old days!
C'mon missy, lines like "All these little things in life, they all create this hate. There's too many things to get down and I'm running outta day-ays!" does that really speak to you?
I suggest either drinking a bottle of your dad’s finest whiskey or re-directing all those anti-war feelings brainwashed inside of you into a full on attack on America and their crimes they've committed. They've brainwashed poor British kids like you into believing that this is the shit. You've gotta be saved! Believe in yourself and come join the right fuck against America. As a man as wise as these once said, 'IT'S HAMMERTIME!'
"In the darkness, I'm so far down. The ones like me, we're so away from the sunshine … and now, I'm gone."
Toto, we're running out of time, pass me my sword and get me on the next flight to the land of milk and obesity!
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1Septic Clit's Score