So Are Adults
Moments after the kid leaves this dude comes up and he's like: "That's enough to get annoying." He's talking about my music. It's the "DFA Compilation #2,"
an album named in both Pitchfork Media and Spin Magazine's top 50 albums of 2004. It's pulsing, pounding, groovealiscious underground New York City dance rock, and it fucking rules. Sure, it can grow repeditive, but thus is the nature of dance. If I were playing the "Macarena," it'd be a fuckload more annoying but he probably wouldn't complain because it's slicker and more Anglo-acceptable. So, in response I don't get bitter and mean, like when this fuckwad commented on the music were playing one day (by the composer of "Amelie"). I did, in the words of my mother, "kill him with kindness." "This is the DFA Compilation #2, from the underground New York dance producers. But, thankfully, you came here for the movies not the music - how may I help you?" The rest of our interaction was normal and nice. When he left, I continued to dance my firm little ass off.
My clit runneth over.
D.
an album named in both Pitchfork Media and Spin Magazine's top 50 albums of 2004. It's pulsing, pounding, groovealiscious underground New York City dance rock, and it fucking rules. Sure, it can grow repeditive, but thus is the nature of dance. If I were playing the "Macarena," it'd be a fuckload more annoying but he probably wouldn't complain because it's slicker and more Anglo-acceptable. So, in response I don't get bitter and mean, like when this fuckwad commented on the music were playing one day (by the composer of "Amelie"). I did, in the words of my mother, "kill him with kindness." "This is the DFA Compilation #2, from the underground New York dance producers. But, thankfully, you came here for the movies not the music - how may I help you?" The rest of our interaction was normal and nice. When he left, I continued to dance my firm little ass off.
My clit runneth over.
D.
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