I sent this cunt a tune i had made, i had spent a long time making it (at least a few hours). In making this tune I had lost all touch with reality, of aesthetic principles, even of morality itself, as is the case with any true and worthwhile artisitic enterprise. So i really thought i was onto something. I wanted the cunt to let me know what he thought, and of course he didn't let me down, he said:
"can't listen to it now as i'm still virused out of download land. you know the comedian bill bailey did something like this, right?"
And i knew straight away the tune i had made was shit.
Of course I had known it all along.
I just needed someone to tell me.
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