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[likeshowbusiness]

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[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

Forty. And the last time I checked, it was 1969.

[text]

[perdix]

Too bad, music starts to get awesome in like... 15 years.

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

Now who's being an asshole?

[text]

[perdix]

Fine.

[Pause.]

The Doors aren't bad.

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

Floppy haired cunts. Burt Bacharach, now there's an artist.

[text]

[perdix]

Who?

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

Jesus Christ. Dorothy Squires? Judy Garland?

[text]

[perdix]

The chick from the Wizard of Oz...? Right?

Seriously?

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

A forty-year career across every possible medium and she's 'the chick from the Wizard of Oz'? Fuck me.

[text]

[perdix]

No thanks.

[He's somehow starting to get a vibe.]

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

It's a figure of speech, you little shit.

[text]

[perdix]

Still.

[He feels more comfortable with that very clear boundary in place.]

Jesus, you'd hate my music even more than the middle-aged dudes that actually live in my time zone or whatever.

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

[so offended by the implication that just because he's homosexual he'd be into you

disregarding that if you shaved and were gay you'd be 100% his type

never mind]

What's 'your music', then, the sound of orphans being drowned?

[Yes, this is what he thinks The Doors sounds like.]

[text]

[perdix]

Asshole.

[He doesn't want to read about that!!]

It's all genres you straight up haven't heard of, though.

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

Probably for the best, if some of the shit I was hearing round Stockholm is any clue.

[text]

[perdix]

Whatever, man.

So look, IDK, text me if you need something, or if you wanna meet up, or whatnot.

[text]

[likeshowbusiness]

Yeah, warder, I will do.