Instead of bringing interesting writing to the blogs, they bring their "collections" of crud and crap. This could be dull magazine clippings on favorite dead stars, examples from their collections of boring post cards, or...their favorite stolen music.
It's obvious these losers don't have "followers" and aren't "liked" for themselves. It's bribery. But these delusional, sad, lonely dung beetles take what they can get.
These toady morons actually go out and buy stuff and digitize it just so a few "imaginary friends" might say "thanks, keep 'em coming."
Dung beetles don't require much to sustain them, just some useless shit to play with. It gives them something to do till their hearts can no longer monotonously keep ticking in a brainless body.
How long can a heart valve propel an idiot to "boot sales" and to a scanner and to a computer and to the toilet and back and forth before it finally crumples? It is not being fed blood, guts, love, passion or anything else.
The label was altered but not the text. Would you want to know the sap who muttered such inane remarks to himself and actually typed them out thinking anyone else would care?
FASCINATING...
This guy is talking to himself like Rainman. He just types it out because the sound of his voice puts him to sleep. Does he realize how idiotic and trivial he is? That he's got Alzheimer's?
Mr. Sap spends almost all his time alone. The people who pay attention to him are the nauseated sellers who are willing to take his money as long as they can unload the worst records in the world on him. He also gets a "thanks" once in a while from some pinhead with nothing better to do than download these stale crumbs, listening in confusion, and blinking like a lobotomized owl.
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