Your mysterious young friend, whose name you have never told me, but whose picture really fascinates me, never thinks.

I know a little bit about a great many things and not enough about any one to make a living in these times.

For glory gives herself only to those who have always dreamed of her.

And all I could do while I listened to this dude tell me how punk rock saved his life was think, Wow. Why did my friend waste all that time going to chemotherapy? I guess we should have just played him a bunch of shitty Black Flag records.

Written By Chuck Klosterman

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