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But wait, there's more.

There's just no polite way to say "Buy me things", is there?

Join codebastards, I dare you. Remember, codebastards are us.

I'm baded and jitter. So are these people. (And why not follow the previous, next, or random links?)

Need a band name?

Doug vs. Japanese Snack Foods: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

rant is where the heart is

diaryland: entry for 2002-10-17 (01:15)
In which our plucky young hero couldn't cut it as a wise man.

So, the first night I get into Vancouver, I'm in the hostel's lobby watching two other people play cards: a German girl named Sabina and an Australian guy whose name I can't remember.

The radio's on, tuned to some godawful, crapulent rock station, and what comes on but Nickelback. Goddamn Nickelback.

But. All three of us. We sing along. The Australian guy has a spot-on imitation of the lead singer of the band. It amuses us to no end. Afterward, Sabina tells us that she's really into Metallica and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The ice is broken, and my fears I'd spend the weekend being lonely are dimmed.

All thanks to Nickelback.

I'm reminded of High Fidelity - the book, not the movie - and the scene where Laura takes Rob to meet some of her friends, and Rob later looks through their utterly abhorrent record collection. Until recently, he did not even have the mental capacities to entertain the thought that people can be good, and yet like music he hates. That's pretty much what I felt like when I realized dammit, it's goddamn Nickelback, and dammit, it's not that bad a song.

Music brings people together, if you let it. And I'd rather be together than apart.

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