So help me, young man, you're starting to worry me. If I hear of you going anywhere near your Smiths or Morrisey albums, I'm comin' down to North Carolina and bury my beard in your hairy ass 'til you can't even remember He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's name! You got that, boy?
Now put away the Pet Shop Boys Albums. PUT - THEM - AWAY. Take out your copy of Eat To The Beat (how 'bout Atomic?) (or better yet, Tom Tom Club's Dark Sneak Love Action and kee-rank Say I Am), smoke some dope, and finalize your vacation plans. DO IT!
p.s.: your archives aren't working
