All due respect, Lauren, but Cheapo made me want to kill myself, and their stuff was totally expensive. In the words of Johnny "I let my marriage to Angelina got to hell so I could play with Ewan McGregor" Lee Miller in Trainspotting, "What a bloody mis-fucking-nomer." And there were teenagers talking about "post-rock" while their bored girlfriends chimed in about how much they hate hipsters. And it was 7:30 on a Thursday. They didn't have half the bands I was looking for, and they moved Nick Cave to Classic Rock. CLASSIC ROCK. Did the 90s not happen? Do they think they're being cute? Why not move Sonic Youth? Or Guided by Voices? Apparently none of the clerks there touched their first boob to Mr. Cave and The Bad Seeds. WTF?!
And the red smocks were very whatever that chain was that was going to take over the store in Empire Records, except ironic, or something. And the employee picks sucked. I'm never going back there. If it weren't for the extensive posters for upcoming shows, I'd have committed ritual suicide right in the entryway.
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You do know about the Electric Fetus, right?
It's off of Franklin, so it's "real".
By the way, hello. I haven't talked to you in a long time. I'll be in Minneapolis for a week in late October (jobs pending).
No, I've been there, but we were at dinner in Uptown and I had to satisfy the CD itch. The Fetus gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling that comes from knowing the clerks are judging you.
Oh sweetie, don't kill yourself.
Shit. I ruined your life.
But I like it when you're all pissed and angsty.
i bet its better than what they have here --im in utah.
miss you.
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