Anybody here remember what it was like to buy a tape, record or CD and just listen to that shit on repeat

For days, weeks, months. Because it's all you had. And then reading the insert/booklet and to end, admiring the art, learning the lyrics, looking for hidden messages. Then you start making connections between real life and the music band art, and it all makes sense, so you abandon your family to start a cult dedicated to the words and message of your favorite artist, then you are visited at night by the nine headed demon dog and he/they tell you that you are the one true prophet and are ordained "messenger" and you give up all of your life's possessions and abandon your cult members in the jungle and let them fend for themselves. And you lick toads and eat mushrooms as you make your way to civilization only you never left the park and you've just been tripping balls because you thought it would be fun to visit Lucy in the sky with diamonds while listening to your music and you're not even in the park, you never left the bedroom... And your parents bare worries about you, so they call up Sally Jesse Raphael to stage an intervention but you bail as soon as you land at the airport and this time you really end up in the woods, and you're really lost, and you start eating squirrels until the cops pick you up, and when they book you your fingerprints are processed and found to be associated with an ongoing interpol investigation where 429 people were found dead in the jungle, so you escape trial by using physics to tip the paddy wagon taking you to the courthouse and head to the woods where you lay low for several years, befriending bunnies n shit while prospecting for gold in a nearby stream so you can buy a new identity and try to clear your name. And you do just that, you hire Johnny Cochran and he makes up a nursery rhyme that gets you cleared of all charges "if it happens in the jungle, then it has to be Mr bungle". So you're now a free man, several years older, you write a book about your experiences and become a new York times best seller, and go on tour, meet Conan, Letterman, Elvira mistress big the dark, Cheech and Chong, and the fame gets to you, maybe makes you feel like starting another cult, maybe but some Kool aid packets and see what happens...

Those were the days huh?