Damn. You're going to make me break out my mortifying childhood music collection, aren't you? For the record, California has entirely too much sun per square inch and it fried my brain. Remember it because that is my excuse.
Oh well, if it's a catchy death, I guess I can't complain. Though remember my musical exposure was limited to Dad and Dean's mullet rock, some college radio and the non-music of NPR.
Yeah, this is going to be quick and painful then, dude. At least I'm not making you listen to my dad's opera collection? Wagner was as close as I got to rock until I hit ten.
You poor, poor fool. I think my voice has gotten rusty or I would try and demonstrate something. Wagner might come back from the dead and kill me for insulting him like that though.
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