The meat of our tale. I found a bunch of CD spindles carbon-dated from circa 2000~2008 at the back of one of a cupboard that serves my parents as a perfectly preserved mausoleum to my shallow youth.

To make up for my primitive piracy, I shall be cataloguing and reviewing each disc the order that they were stacked. along with whatever awkward memories flutter through my useless cranium.

This is the most honest account I could ever muster to showcase my more pathetic flailings at an adolescent identity. I’ll probably accompany each review with a scan of the CD in question and a picture of a sad manatee.

Mea culpa, music industry. I knew not what I did.


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