...okay...well, maybe these two exemplify the reason I remain single.
Carl Barat and Pete Doherty...otherwise known as frontmen for the former band, The Libertines.
"Up the Bracket," has been such a fun CD to blast every morning...and afternoon...and evening. Sure beats the shit out of the godamn Britney Spears my two retarded neighbors seem obsessed with. They also crank up other shit that is getting on my effing maximum last nerve.
But...shit. Now I'm all inundated with the truth behind these two. And, it's gettin to me. I don't want to be all entwined with such huge fucking self-destructive losers.
I mean, I would theorize there is an "appropriate way" to kill yourself with drugs...but, hell...why make such a dramatic exit and drag it out for ever? Besides, the planet is crowded. If you're that unhappy just make room for the rest of us, k?
I mean, I'm sorry. But I have no patience for this kind of hedonistic bullshit. I live with no less than 5 major hospitals within a 5 mile radius of my front door. And one of them is for terminally ill children. What a fucking nightmare. The suffering, the loss, the torture on each soul. And these two dumb fuckers have to take the gift of life and take it as some huge God-ordained insult. Fucking bail then, Mr. I'm-so-fucking-upset-with-the-world.
Anyone who actually admires this twisted imitation of grandeur is obviously hurting for a muse.
It's all been done before, boys. What amazing talent it takes to overindulge with drugs, sex, and destruction. You're so fucking original.
Well...I have always enjoyed music as a package experience. I dig the composer, I dig the history behind the band...the sincerity of lyrics...I dig the flavor of the sound, as it were.
In order for me to continue chipping paint off the walls from the beat of these fellows every morning...I guess I will have to divorce their music from their existence as human beings.
Funny...seems like we actually have the same end goal after all.
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