I STILL think someone should invent a time machine for the sole purpose of going back in time and making sure that Bob Dylan's parents never meet. Met.
No, seriously: fuck that guy. Ya'll are just foolin' yerselves. He's a waste of your time; you're much better off listening to Van Morrison - who himself should be beaten with a piece of wood wrapped in barbed wire, but I can only work on destroying one undeserved legacy at a time, so we'll leave it at that.
Yes, I am still sick.
Now I must go eat pepper chicken and watch the tv stare back at me.
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