What the hell kind of full-moon, dehydrated fever-dream brought this hellish curse upon my hind brain. I woke up with this in my head. When I played the video below, T. and I were just waking up, he checking his spam folder on The Wife's computer. His comment -- "you have any idea how many times I had my hair cut to this song?"
Oh the horror.
Enjoy the remnant pangs of adolescent torture, and the realization that they're finally, almost, faded into the sunset,
Bp
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4 comments:
how does the drummer play while standing like that? It must take an insane amount of footwork to dance behind the drum set while also hitting the bass drum and hi-hat with his feet.
T got his hair cut to this? Multiple times?
It's all about shopping malls -- hair cuts, and in my case jobs at Miller's Outpost. We were inundated by this song and many of its ilk.
*shiver*
miller's outpost. heh. badass.
You know it sister HAHA!
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