I’d imagine there isn’t much overlap between the [...]-reading demographic and the
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-listening demographic, since the people who read my column are smug college-aged know-it-all assholes and the people who listen to
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are retarded. There must be a lot more grocery-bagging money winding up in the hands of the mentally challenged then I thought, because they’ve pooled their spending money to buy up enough albums to make
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into a commercial success.
Their sophomore album continues their proud tradition of singing to the helmeted, sweat-pantsed, Velcro-walleted citizens of the world, making music so bland that it could not trip the hypersensitive “freak the fuck out” switch that every retardate has built into his psyche, which can be tripped by over-stimulation and tends to cause lots of yelling and flailing and knocking over of standing objects.
While cynical readers might choose to criticize
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for their hobbit singer’s inconsequential crooning and for their ceaseless lyrical clichés and phoned-in musicianship, I believe that in providing artistic enjoyment to the differently abled,
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does a fine service to our world. Also, girls love them (but who the fuck cares what girls think?).