Bring on the Dancing Whores, I mean Horses

1985 is shaping up pretty rad so far. I was all sweaty and nauseated for a couple days with the usual booze and pill new year, listening to Psychocandy. Couldn’t eat more than a cherry tomato. But I did manage to pick up a copy of Spex and a couple new albums. Nothing you would have heard of, it’s all German. Except, for Helen I got the new Scritti Politi. She just loves to dance. Holy crap, I am supposed to go meet her at the mall! We might go see Rocky III later. She is probably waiting for me by the fountain already, drinking a tab and ready to ring my neck, or pouring slurpees on the jocks that hang out by the Iroc giveaway.

Golden Girls is on tonight. 1985 Rules.


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