LET COMMENCE THE DRUNKEN LORD_NOUGAT POSTS! I had just had my first major motorcycle crash. No broken bones that time, aside from my skull. So I was kind of fucked up for a time. Well I went to one of those office stores, Staples maybe. Following someone; my brother, maybe my dad, shopping for mundane things. Packs of floppies, reams of paper, Idunno, bright-ish colours, and beige, and packaging, and... THIS ALBUM! Just sitting there, opened, and clearly not for sale. Well, I 'tarded;y just stuck the CD into my walkman andstarted listening. I knew these guys already from something previous, but man, I really liked this one. I listened to it until I was healed, and went back to work, with surely a few IQ points knocked off, as this kind of thing will do. Um. Idunno. I guess sorry to whatever employee left it sitting there like that. And I guess this is the story of how I became such a fucking mental case. Except I already was before that, but I was a smarter one then. The settlement from the commercial truck that tried to murder me bought me a much nicer motorcycle. I crashed that one also, but totally differently, with no head trauma this time. Only extensive roadrash on my ass, because for some reason I guess I thought that jeans were somehow protective against 80mpg abrasions or something... But I wholeheartedly digress.