When I was in eighth grade, all hip wearing my day-glo hoop earrings, my oversized tie dye Body Glove tee shirt that would change colors with heat, spandex leggings and two pairs of socks (the opposite color block on each foot), I filled my ears with sounds most girls my age didn't. While most females obsessed over which New Kid was the cutest, I openly rejected this idiotic band with a sneer and a snap bracelet. Pumping through my cassette Walkman were the sweet sounds of Guns N Roses Appetite for Destruction, Soundgarden's Screaming Life, and Motley Crue's Girls Girls Girls.
Now two decades later I realize just how lame I've become. I have found myself bopping to the sounds of the below video. What is wrong with me? I'm telling you, I must be ill with some sort of mindnumbing fever that has seized my rational thinking (not to mention my good taste). I believe the only cure for what ails me is a strong dose of Pantera's Power Metal or Metallica's Master of Puppets. Make it end, oh please, make it end.
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