You feel the power of teenage angst enter your body through awkward beats and poor songwriting. By the end of Significant Other you are ready to break something. You check your five-foot javelin, your quart of urine, and exit with Chad. The two of you wander aimlessly around Beijing for a few hours as you attempt to communicate with the locals. Your Japanese isn't working very well, and Fred Durst's nasally whining is bouncing around your head. A wrong turn leaves you stuck in a dead-end where a Tibetan Monk corners you. His thin feet are black with dirt, his frail hand shakes out of his robe to give you a handwritten packet and numerous pictures portraying the awful atrocities by the Chinese government. You try to tell him you aren't interested, but he refuses to leave.
gee, sun, thanks for life and warmth and light. you totally did it on purpose and aren't just a stupid exploding deathtrap
You say collaboration like it's a bad word.
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