Growing up is a bitch. I know you know that. You've battled with depression, anorexia, arthritis, divorce, earth, wind and fire. You've joined the burgeoning numbers of those who yearn to enter into the realm of the unaged. You miss your bolster.
But you know what? I have your salvation. A few weeks ago, I received an an email that said "ETERNAL ELIXIR OF YOUTH!" It came from a Mr Zamundo Mgaberesbe from Congo, who said that he would post me his mystical potion, brewed in the deepest recesses of Congo's jungles. All I needed to do was deposit $20,000 in his bank account. So, Danny boy, I thought of you, sold my sister, and put the required dough in his account. And true to his word, Mr Mgaberesbe sent over a package a week later containing that a hallowed vial.
So here's the deal: At Big Day Out, just play 'Tomorrow'. Or 'Israel's Son'. Or 'Pure Massacre', or anything from Frogstomp that made my pube-free ass sit up and believe I was immortal. Screw maturity, and the shitpile that is Young Modern, and do the right thing. Do it, and the vial is yours.
C'mon, do it.
Do it.
Please.
Yours youthfully,
Pantsy
Silverchair - Tomorrow (from Frogstomp)
No comments:
Post a Comment