Fuck You Internet.

Dear Internet,

Sometimes I wish Al Gore never ate that quarter pound of ‘shrooms and invented you. Before you came along, I took pride in and enjoyed being part of little movements and sub-cultures that molded me into the man child I am today. Those are all near extinct thanks to your infinite vaginal squirting of information and easily available tools to create instant cool in the youth of today.

I know this may all sound like bitter old man banter or maybe even elitist, but fuck it. I’m 100% anti-ego and have the self esteem of a sea slug, but I can flaunt that I know my shit. Coming up as a kid with heavy interests in music there was no world wide web for me to turn to and have some pretentious music site or hipster blog fill me in on what’s “now” or whatever trend is fashionable. I had to earn it. No free full musical library downloads to give me immediate cred. It was about actively seeking new labels and artists and taking chances with your limited funds to hopefully stumble upon something fresh. Hopping a bus to the city and scouring record stores for mixtapes and record singles and having a genuine feeling of excitement and that I was part of something. I remember a time when I would meet people and tell them I was into jungle and their face would take on a look of confusion like I just proclaimed that I poo out fountain soda. Now everything is so saturated and forced down your throat even your Nana listens to French electro.

So fuck off internet….and fuck you too you little unoriginal bastard kids running around trying to look dirty and hip but you have on $300 jeans and haircuts from Salon Le’ Douche. If it wasn’t for Al Gore and his insane imagination you would still all be jocks celebrating date rape Saturdays and weekly skater-fag bashings.

I feel better now.

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