Late on a Friday night, sitting in the Delancy Street-Essex Street Station, my new maroon Conversi planted in front of me on my Peavey practice amp and my iPod planted in my eardrums, I suddenly felt the massive ironic urge to vomit. It could've been because I realised how terribly, painfully clich-ay my existence was and is. More likely though, I
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Comments 6
What British romance film would this be?
Practice Monday-- Learn the songs.
We'll speak,
M.
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